The Witcher: The Black Dragon
by Angry lil' elf
Summary: The Dragonborn in the Witcher universe, what more is there? Will also crossover into Game of Thrones. Rated T for now. Dragonborn/Triss romance, Geralt/Yennefer romance.
1. Chapter 1

The Witcher: The Black Dragon Witcher

…

 _Chapter 1: A Contract Most Curious_

…

 _The College of Winterhold._

Martin sliced through another magical anomaly with his sword Blackfyre. The anomaly seemed to scream in pain as it was bisected in half by the dragon-steel blade of Martin's sword and it fell to the snow in a pile of steaming magical goo. Martin wiped his brow and took a moment to observe the battlefield briefly; members of the College, both novice and master were engaging the magical anomalies in battle, blasting out streams of fire, lightning and frost at the anomalies that flew about, slamming their eldritch bodies into the college members. This had all started when Ancano, the Thalmor advisor, had taken control of the Eye of Magnus and was using the artefact's insurmountable power for his own ends. The Psjic Monks had informed Martin that he was the only one who could stop what was happening. A meeting with the Augur of Dunlain had Martin travelling to Labyrinthian, the ancient Nord city ruin nestled in the mountains, to recover the Staff of Magnus that would have the power to close the Eye before it could destroy the world.

After a long battle with the undead and the Dragon Priest Morokei, Martin had recovered the Staff and immediately made his way back to the College. It had devolved into pandemonium as Ancano's reckless misuse of the Eye had caused magical ruptures to split the borders between realms, spilling forth magical anomalies that had begun attacking everything in sight.

Martin participated in the battle, helping his fellow college members as best he could, slicing apart the anomalies with his sword and providing healing to anyone who was injured in the battle against the anomalies. Mirabelle Ervine urged Martin to end the insanity and that was he intended to do.

Tolfdir volunteered his services to aid the Dragonborn in reaching the College and Martin graciously accepted the offer of the elderly but powerful wizard's help. Once the anomalies in the town had been dealt with, the pair then traversed the walkway leading to the college and they soon reached the magical barrier that barred the way. Pulling the staff of Magnus from his back, Martin raised the eldritch staff in front of him and unleashed the power of the staff onto the magical barrier barring entry.

Immediately eldritch energy shot forth from the crystal head of the staff and the stream of magic collided with the barrier in a shower of magical sparks and arcs of lightning. There was a great screaming sound as though the barrier itself were in pain but that didn't stop Martin as he focussed on bringing the barrier down. Finally, after a tense nerve wracking moment, the barrier was brought down and it cracked and broke like glass as 'shards' of magic fell around the College like broken glass. Putting the staff away, Martin then charged into the college with Blackfyre at the ready and Tolfdir following closely, his hands wreathed in arcane flames.

Barging through the large oak and iron bound doors, Martin and the Tolfdir entered the Hall of Elements where they found Ancano standing before the Eye of Magnus, his body enveloped in arcane magic.

"Ancano! Stop this madness! You don't know what you're doing!" roared Martin. Ancano turned around to sneer dismissively before he replied.

"Foolish whelp! I know exactly what I'm doing!" boasted the Thalmor agent "With the Eye at my command, the Thalmor has all it needs to wipe out both the Stormcloaks and the Imperial Legion!" he declared.

"Ancano! Please! Listen to reason!" Tolfdir cried "There are magics we were never meant to meddle with!" he yelled.

"Pathetic old man!" Ancano sneered, "I tire of your prattle!" Ancano then waved a hand and Tolfdir fell to the ground paralysed.

"No! Damn you!" shouted Martin as he blasted out a stream of lightning at Ancano but the magical aura surrounding the Altmer easily absorbed the lightning. Ancano waved another hand and it was only quick reflexes that saved Martin from being paralysed by a paralysis spell. Martin then drew the staff of Magnus from his back. Ancano's eyes flashed with recognition as he saw the staff in Martin's gauntleted hands.

"The Staff of Magnus? You found the Staff of Magnus?!" screeched Ancano.

"I did!" Martin declared "And with it, I'm going to end this madness!" he said as he pointed the staff towards the Eye and blasted a stream of energy at the Eye. The stream of energy collided with the Eye and the Eye closed. As the Eye closed, Ancano's magical aura faded away leaving him vulnerable. Almost immediately, Martin was upon the Thalmor agent, his sword flashing. Ancano barely dodged each strike, trying to raise his hands to cast a spell. Martin kept to trying to get in close so that the Thalmor lackey wouldn't be able to use any magic. Ancano in an act of desperation drew his dagger and slashed at Martin who blocked the strike with his sword but this provided Ancano enough time to hit Martin with a telekinetic pulse which forced the Dovahkiin back. Ancano then stretched his hand towards the Eye and cast a spell on it. The Eye opened and Ancano was then covered in magic once again.

Ancano then began throwing lightning bolts and fireballs at Martin for all he was worth. It took all of Martin's skill to avoid being hit by the destructive spells and he aimed the staff at the Eye and cast the magic of the artefact into the Eye. The eldritch magic of the staff collided with the Eye and it began to close again. Ancano screamed in rage as he cast a counter-spell at the Eye for it to remain open. But as Ancano's counter-spell hit the Eye, it began to froth with energy and arcs of energy and lightning lashed out and there was a great cracking sound as above the Eye a tear in the fabric of reality opened and began to suck everything in. Ancano was the first to be sucked into the blackhole and the Thalmor agent screamed in desperation as he scrambled to hold onto solid ground. Martin acted quickly; he used his Thu'um to Shout Ice Form on Tolfdir ensuring he wouldn't be sucked into the blackhole. Martin then stabbed Blackfyre into the ground and held on tight. Martin's body was raised into the air as the blackhole sucked everything in the room into its gaping maw. Martin held on as tightly as he could but before he could react, Blackfyre seemed to slip away from its anchor and Martin was sucked into the blackhole. Martin yelled in fear as he was sucked into the blackhole and he struggled to try and make his way back to the Hall of Elements but as he was sucked into the blackhole, the tear sealed itself. Martin roared in disbelief as he was now cut off from his own world.

It was then a whirlwind of colours and images and places that Martin had never seen and he desperately wished that he was somewhere on solid ground. And it seemed the Divines had heard the Dovahkiin's prayers as he landed with a thump on solid ground. After a moment of laying still on the ground, Martin sat up, groaning in pain slightly as he rubbed the back of his head and his back. Satisfied he hadn't broken any bones, Martin slowly sat up and observed his surroundings. He was in a forest but it wasn't one he had seen before. It seemed similar to the forests of Cyrodil but there was something different about it that set it apart from the forests of Cyrodil.

Picking up his sword and sheathing it over his back, Martin then took a moment to look around and before long, his sense of smell picked up the scent of cooking fires. Taking a chance to follow the scent, Martin then began walking in the direction of the fires.

…

A brown mare slowly cantered along the path, its rider wearing a hood over his head, two swords hanging parallel over one broad shoulder and a medallion in the shape of a wolf's head bouncing on his chest.

The rider was known as Geralt of Rivia, also named the White Wolf and he was a Witcher; a mutated/enhanced monster-slayer for hire. Geralt was riding towards some gods-forsaken little hamlet where a strange new monster was said to have butchered twelve men without provocation. The details about the monster were strange; the 'monster' stood at 6'5 and was wearing black armour and wielding a sword. Geralt knew that most monsters didn't wield weapons like swords or wear armour as their claws and teeth were than adequate for slaughtering humans and their hides were thick enough to provide suitable protection against the blades of men. But the other details of the monster caught the White Wolf's attention; apparently this black armoured sword wielding monster could spew fire from its maw like any dragon could. At the mention of fire being spewed from the monster's mouth, Geralt began to think that this monster might be some new kind of draconid.

It was here on this beaten dirt road, Geralt rode Roach towards the village. The village itself wasn't too interesting; just a small settlement of farmers along with a local blacksmith and a pellar to tend to the needs and maladies that befell the village. Urging Roach into the village and riding the mare up to the local tavern, Geralt dismounted and tied Roach to a post where the mare contented itself to eating some hay in the feed trough. Entering the tavern, Geralt was greeted with the usual sight of farmers and peasants drinking away their worries after a hard morning tending the fields. A few stared at Geralt, noticing the steel and silver swords over his shoulder before looking away hurriedly. Some of the muttered "Freak," or "Mutant," under their breath.

Walking up to the innkeeper, Geralt said to him "A pint of ale, if you have any." The innkeeper nodded before sloshing some ale into a tankard and placed it in front of the Witcher who without pause downed the beverage in one go. Putting some gold crowns on the bar which the innkeeper swept into his hand, Geralt then spoke.

"Heard there was a monster-attack here recently. Do you know anything about it?" Geralt asked the innkeeper.

"We haven't had a monster 'round these parts for o'er a week now," the innkeeper replied. "Why do ye be askin'?" he enquired.

"I took a contract telling me that some kind of monster came into this village and killed twelve men without provocation," answered Geralt, "Didn't think it might be a monster given that it apparently wields a sword and wears armour," he remarked. "But the part where it spews fire from its mouth caught my interest," the White Wolf said.

"Oh! Ye mean that Martin feller who saved our village just recently?" the innkeeper asked "He ain't no monster! He's human!" he said.

Geralt blinked in surprise. "But what about the part about him breathing fire like a dragon?" he asked.

"He said it were simply magic," replied the innkeeper shrugging his shoulders. "We all thought he might be some new kind of Witcher given that he could use magic and that he had a sword but I know enough about Witchers to know that all Witchers carry two swords. One made of steel for humans, the other wrought from silver for monsters," he said.

"But what about the part where this… Martin fellow killed twelve men?" asked Geralt.

A sour look came over the innkeeper's face as he replied, "Common bandits! In league with the self-proclaimed King of Bandits, Saker of Ard Skellige!" he spat.

"This village has had troubles with bandits, I take it," Geralt said rather than asked.

The innkeeper nodded and replied "Aye. Saker and his gang number about eighty strong. Most of 'em are deserters or layabouts that think they can take whatever they want by force," he explained.

"It was only about a week or so back when twelve of Saker's men came riding into town and tried to drag off some of our village girls. We were all too afraid, ye understand. If we put up any resistance, Saker's men would come in force and wipe this village off the map!" the innkeeper explained.

"Just as those ruffians began clap the girls in irons to drag off to their camp, Martin arrived. He charged in and swung his sword, cutting through three bandits in half as though they were nought but wet parchment! And that sword! It wasn't like any sword I'd ever clapped eyes on! The blade the colour of smoke, drinking in the sun… and ripples and waves all along the metal like water..." the innkeeper said as he recalled that fateful day.

"After cutting down three of Saker's men, Martin turned his attention to the other bandits and that was when he spewed fire from his mouth like a dragon as you said! He burnt those men till they were nought but ash, he did! There was one bandit who was still alive and Martin walked up to him and told him to deliver a message to Saker telling him that the village was under his protection and that if he wanted to take it, he'd have to go through him first."

Geralt thought about it for a moment; he had taken a contract from some thieves and murderers. A contract was a contract, but Geralt didn't like taking money from cut-throats and thugs. This had changed things.

"Do you know where I can find this Martin person?" Geralt then asked.

"I don't rightly know meself, master Witcher." The innkeeper shrugged his shoulders as he began wiping a tankard clean "Perhaps the blacksmith or the pellar might know?" he suggested.

"Thank you for your time," Geralt said as he turned to leave the tavern. Leaving the tavern, Geralt then headed towards the blacksmith's shop. The owner was a dwarf and he was busy hammering some hot metal on his anvil.

"Excuse me, I was told that you might know where someone named Martin might reside," Geralt said to the dwarf who stopped hammering hot metal. Grabbing the piece of metal with a pair of tongs, the dwarf smith put the hot metal into a trough of water that hissed loudly as it contacted the hot metal.

The dwarf wiped his brow clean of sweat before speaking to Geralt. "Now why would a Witcher be going after a human?" the dwarf asked.

"This human isn't ordinary from what I hear," countered Geralt "For one thing, he uses magic," he pointed out.

"Aye, that he does," agreed the dwarf, "But for what reason are you going after him?" he enquired.

"I took a contract that detailed that this Martin fellow had killed twelve men," replied Geralt "But I just learned from your innkeeper that these twelve men were bandits led by a man named Saker," he said.

"Aye, Saker and his lot, worse than monsters they are!" the dwarf smithy grunted "When Martin showed up, he showed 'em what for!" he said with a grin on his bearded lips.

"As I've heard," said Geralt, "But I was told that you or the local pellar might know where this Martin fellow is," he mentioned.

"I don't know where Martin lives," the dwarf replied apologetically "Perhaps the pellar knows?" he suggested.

"Can you give me some details on this Martin?" asked Geralt.

"Well, let's see…" the dwarf grumbled, "No doubt you already know he showed up about a week ago when some of Saker's men tried to drag some of the girls away to their camp and that he slaughtered them," he recalled. "Once the bandits were dealt with, he turned to look at us and began to ask us where here was," he then said.

"So, of course we told him this is the country of Temeria and he was quite surprised to say the least, so it got us thinking that maybe he was from Skellige, Nilfgaard or somewhere else," the dwarf smith then said "So, we asked if he were from any lands we knew of and he told us he was from a land called Skyrim," he added.

"Skyrim? Never heard of a place called that," Geralt muttered to himself. The dwarf smith nodded and said "Aye, we thought he might've been off his rocker or deep in his cups so we asked him if he was a Witcher."

"And he told you he wasn't?" Geralt asked.

The dwarf smith nodded. "Aye, he called himself something else, a Dough-Va-Keen," he said. "Can tell ye now, I've never heard of a Dough-Va-Keen in all me years and when we asked him what it meant, he told us it translated as Dragon-born," he added.

"Dragon-born? So, he is a draconid of some kind then," surmised Geralt.

"I really don't know enough about these things to tell ye," the dwarf said regretfully "And he were fascinated to see me, a dwarf," he added "When I asked him if he had ever seen dwarves before, he told us that the dwarves of his land had all disappeared thousands of years ago," he then said.

"So, he's from a land where there are no non-humans?" Geralt asked.

The dwarf shook his head and replied "Nah, he told us there were elves and the like and some other strange things like Orcs and Goblins. Strange things I'd never heard of before," he said.

"Can you give me some details on this Dragonborn's weapons and armour?" asked Geralt.

"Oh, aye! That sword of his! Why, it was the most beautiful thing I'd clapped eyes on!" the dwarf said excitedly. "I asked him if he'd forged it himself, he said it was a family heirloom and he said it were made of Dragon-steel," he explained.

"Then there was his armour! It was wrought of metal black as a midnight sky!" the dwarf then said "I asked him what it were made of and he told me it was made of ebony," he added.

"Ebony? His armour was made of ebony wood?" Geralt asked.

"I was just as confused as you are," replied the dwarf smithy "Martin then told me it weren't ebony wood but it were made of ebony metal, a volcanic metal from his lands," he said.

"So, I asked him if he had any ebony metal so that I could forge a set of armour like his," the dwarf smithy then said "Sadly, Martin said he hadn't any ebony ingots on him," he added sadly.

"And I tested his armour to see what it could withstand," the dwarf then said. "It withstood all my hammer strikes, a spear, a mace, a sword, a crossbow bolt and even a swing from a battleaxe couldn't scratch nor dent it!" he declared.

"You said the pellar might know where Martin lives?" Geralt then asked as he processed this new information.

"Aye. The pellar lives just outside the village," replied the dwarf, "If anyone knows where Martin makes his home, then the pellar does," he said before going back to his work.

Geralt then headed towards the outer edges of the village. Soon, the White Wolf found the pellar a grey haired old man tending to his herb garden.

"Excuse me, may I speak with you a moment?" Geralt asked the elderly man who looked up from his work and replied, "How may I help you, Witcher?" the pellar asked in a scratchy voice.

"I was told that you knew someone who had saved this village recently. His name is Martin," replied Geralt.

The pellar sucked in a breath before saying, "Aye, I know of whom you speak," he said, "But for what reason would a Witcher want with him?" he asked.

"I took a contract that I thought was a new kind of monster and it turned out this monster is this Martin person I've heard of," explained Geralt. "I was told that you might know where this Martin the Dragon-Born lives," he then said.

"And why would a Witcher be going after someone who saved our village?" the pellar demanded.

"I'm just curious if he is some new kind of monster or is as human as everyone in the village has told me," replied Geralt.

"Well, if ye be seeking the Dragonborn, head due west from this village. There is an old tower where the Dragon-Born has taken residence," said the pellar, "But be warned, White Wolf! If ye seek to do the Dragon-Born harm, be ready for a fight, for the Dragon-Born has much power within him!" he warned.

"I won't fight him unless he makes me," replied Geralt as he whistled for Roach and the mare came cantering up obediently and Geralt mounted the mare and rode off in the direction the pellar told him.

After an hour, the sun shone high in the sky indicating it was midday. Geralt soon found the old ruined tower the pellar told him the Dragon-Born made his home in. Dismounting Roach, Geralt then debated to himself which sword he should use. If this Martin fellow was indeed human like the villagers said he was, then a steel sword would be best to fight him. On the other hand, if Martin was indeed some new kind of monster then a silver sword was more ideal to use against him.

Drawing out his steel sword, Geralt then slowly opened the front door of the tower and slowly trudged up the stairs quietly as he could. Geralt's enhanced senses could pick up the sounds and smells of food cooking. Following the scent of cooking meat, Geralt soon reached the top of the tower where he sighted a large man wearing midnight black armour stirring some in a kettle over a fire. The man must've heard Geralt as he turned his head slightly and spoke in a calm baritone voice.

"Not many would venture into an abandoned tower willingly or alone," the man said dryly "One never knows what kind of monster has made its home there," he added ruefully.

Geralt stopped in his tracks. "You heard me?" he asked in disbelief.

"Your heartbeat I could as soon as you entered the tower," replied the man as he turned around to face Geralt. Geralt was a little surprised at how young the man was; he couldn't be any older than nineteen or twenty years old at best. The young man's hair and eyes also caught Geralt's attention; the eyes were a deep vivid purple colour like amethysts almost that were dark and stormy looking and his hair was like silver and gold.

"For what reason would you have to enter my home?" asked the giant of a young man.

"I took a contract recently that a monster had attacked the nearby village," replied Geralt, "When I got here, I learned that you were the one who had saved the village from being raided by some bandits," he said.

"You must be a Witcher then?" asked the young man and Geralt nodded in response. "Would you mind explaining to me what a Witcher is? I am unfamiliar with such a being," the young man said.

Geralt then sheathed his sword on his back sensing that this young man was no threat to him and was no monster. Although, Geralt's medallion vibrated a little in the presence of this young man.

The young man then introduced himself as Martin the Dough-Va-Keen or Dragon-Born and Geralt introduced himself in return and they began to have a meal of fresh venison stew that Martin had been cooking for the past few hours since this morning.

Martin had asked many questions about Witchers and what they were. Geralt answered Martin's questions and asked his own questions such as what a Dragon-Born was. Martin had explained as best he could what it meant to be Dragon-Born; a Dovahkiin/Dragonborn was a person chosen by the Nine Divines to have the blood and soul of a dragon and was innately gifted in a magic called the Thu'um or the Voice. Geralt had asked what the Voice was and Martin had explained to him that it was a form of magic as well as the language of dragons. Geralt had said that dragons here could not talk to which Martin had replied that where he was from, dragons could indeed talk and communicate with mortal beings.

After a bowl of stew and some bottles of mead that Martin had with him, Geralt then spoke, "I feel a little foolish taking that contract on your life," he said sheepishly "And here I thought you were some new kind of monster," he joked.

"Sometimes men can be worse than monsters," Martin said with a sardonic grin "I was going to go and take care of Saker and his gang and free this region from their control," he added.

"You against eighty men?" Geralt asked in disbelief "You're either very brave, or very foolish," he commented.

"Compared to what I usually fight in Skyrim, eighty men isn't something too strenuous," replied Martin as he stood up and began to grab his weapons.

"You need some help?" offered Geralt "I feel as though I should help you with this, as recompense for taking a contract on your life," he said.

"Very honourable of you," Martin noted "Plus you should get something out of the coffers of Saker's gang," he said.

"Do you have a horse?" Geralt asked as they left the room to leave the tower.

"I do," said Martin as they left the tower. Once outside the tower, Martin then gave a piercing whistle and Geralt's medallion vibrated as it felt the magic behind that whistle. After a moment's silence, galloping out of the woods came a large black stallion with glowing red eyes. The stallion reared before giving an unholy whinny. Roach almost bolted were it not for Geralt holding her reins.

Martin walked up to the black stallion, stroking its nose fondly and the red-eyed steed nuzzled his hand agreeably. Martin swung himself up into the saddle and spoke to Geralt, "I did some scouting a little while ago and found where Saker and his men have holed themselves up," he said.

"So, where have they holed themselves up in?" asked Geralt as he mounted Roach.

"There's an old fort that was abandoned by the previous occupants and Saker moved in and turned it into his headquarters," replied Martin "By the time we get there, it'll be dusk. Perfect time for us to sneak in," he said.

"Then let's get going!"

Wheeling their horses around, the two new friends urged their horses into a canter and rode off to put an end to the so-called King of Bandits.

 _ **TO BE CONTINUED…**_

 **A/N: well there it is everyone, the first chapter of my Elder Scrolls/Witcher story and as you can guess by certain details in the title and the story, this story will cross over into Game of Thrones at some point. But anyways, this is just setting the stage of Martin's adventures in the Witcher world and I've been doing some research on the Witcher universe and I've got a few ideas on how a Dragonborn can affect the inhabitants of the Witcher 'verse.**

 **For romance, there's a couple of options such as Triss Merigold, Yennefer, Ciri and a couple of others as well as the usual Game of Thrones girls. I do have some OCs in mind that our Dragonborn could be involved with, but we'll see how we go.**

 **Also, I am working on a Mortal Kombat/Justice League story that also crosses over with Elder Scrolls, Fallout, Witcher, Hellboy, Game of Thrones, Conan the Barbarian and Red Sonja. The main hero for that story will be the Dragonborn and I've set up a poll on my profile showing a list of the all the available women he can be with, so feel free to vote for who you want. I know a long time ago I had tried to write a Justice League/Mortal Kombat story but they weren't that good and I did receive some abuse from some people who shall not be named and it left such a bad taste in my mouth that I deleted them. But, I've decided to try again and hopefully this time, I can do it better and get some helpful reviews and positive feedback.**

 **And to anyone who has anything negative to say, try to be constructive in your criticism without being abusive, because at the end of the day, we all want to enjoy ourselves here and read a good story. If you're just being negative or abusive for the sake of it, take it elsewhere and to anyone who complains about how the story isn't that good, why don't you try write one yourself?**

 **So, anyways, this is just the first chapter, so let me know what you all thought and if you enjoyed it, leave a review and if you want to give me some advice on anything that is related to the Witcher world, feel free to tell me in a review or a PM, I've only recently been playing the third game and I've read one or two of the comics, but I'm still a novice in all things Witcher.**

 **Be kind to one another everyone and have a nice day,**

 **Angry lil' elf.**


	2. Chapter 2

The Witcher: The Black Dragon

 _Chapter 2: The King of Bandits_

…

Geralt urged Roach to match the pace Martin's own steed was setting as they traversed the wilds towards where the self-proclaimed king of bandits, Saker of Ard Skellig, made his home.

"So, how did you get such a strange steed as the one you ride?" Geralt asked the Dragonborn.

"I worked with a… group who gifted me Shadowmere when a member seemed to have betrayed them," Martin replied. Geralt sensed that Martin wasn't telling the entire truth and it made him a little cautious, but he ignored it in favour of continuing to match pace with Martin's black stallion.

Just as Martin said, it was almost dusk as they reached the outskirts of a ruined fort that would've made a fine castle/home for some little lord or baron but much of it was in ruins and in need of repair. There was evidence that the bandits who had taken residence had done their best to repair the ruined castle, either through their own labour or anyone they pressganged into service. The latter was more than likely than the former. Dismounting their horses, Geralt and Martin hid behind some hedges and began to survey the fortress.

"The walls are lightly guarded," Martin noted as his amethyst-like eyes picked out the details of the fort and any bandits patrolling it. "Saker's clearly confident that no-one's going to attack him in his own home," the Dovahkiin added.

"On the other hand, most of his men will be concentrated within the fort," Geralt pointed out, "And according to the villagers, Saker has about eighty men at least," he said.

"Then this should be interesting." Martin grinned showing pearly white teeth with slightly longer than average canines. That caught Geralt's interest; his medallion still vibrated only ever so slightly in Martin's presence. Whatever Martin was, it was bound to be interesting to see.

Martin then summoned a bleach white bow in a flash of purple fire. Geralt's medallion vibrated a little harder. "You can do magic?" the White Wolf asked in interest.

"Aye, in fact I was learning at the Mages College of Winterhold before certain matters landed me in this world," replied Martin as he took out a black shafted and ebony fletched arrow from a dark leather quiver that appeared on his back. Nocking the arrow to the bow and drawing back the arrow until the bowstring to straining point, Martin looked to where the nearest guard was standing and taking a moment to adjust for wind speed, trajectory and distance, he released the arrow.

 _HSSST-THUNK!_

The black arrow speared the guard in his throat and he fell to the ground below dead, the arrow also breaking his spine.

"Nice shot!" Geralt exclaimed astounded by the marksmanship the Dragonborn displayed.

"Thanks, but we need to move in case any of the other guards saw that," Martin suggested and taking Martin's advice, Geralt followed the larger man away from their hiding spot as some guards noticed their comrade unaccounted for and began to scour the area. Moving to another spot, Martin pulled another arrow from his quiver and nocked it to his bowstring. Aiming at another bandit, Martin pulled back the arrow so that the bowstring was straining once more. After a moment, Martin released the bowstring and the arrow zoomed through the air and sank into the target's chest, piercing his heart. The bandit fell to the ground with a strangled sound which alerted his fellows.

"Now we move around the back where they won't be looking!" Martin said to Geralt who nodded. Quickly moving to the back of the fort while most of the guards were scouring the front, Martin and Geralt climbed up the walls of the fort until they were standing on the ramparts. Crouching down so they wouldn't be seen easily, Martin and Geralt began to look down into the courtyard where they saw most of the bandits. Much of the bandits were watching a fight between two large dogs fighting over scraps of food thrown between them. The bandits were all laughing at this form of sport and seated on a crude throne on a ramshackle dais was a large man wearing iron and fur armour drinking from a large horn.

"That must be Saker," Geralt said to Martin who nodded.

"Too many of them for both of us to fight at once," Geralt noted, "We'd be slaughtered by numbers alone," he added grimly.

"Then we cause a little chaos among the ranks," Martin grinned as he pulled out a small green bottle filled with dark liquid.

"That poison?" Geralt asked.

"Something like that," replied Martin as he suddenly turned invisible and Geralt looked around, his Witcher senses detecting Martin's soft footsteps moving away from him. Geralt then decided to wait for whatever Martin's plan was to sow chaos among the ranks of the bandits.

After a few moments, some of the bandits drinking from a barrel of ale began going insane, drawing their weapons and attacking anything in their sight. The other bandits who had not drunken straight from the barrel had drawn their weapons to defend themselves and began fighting their crazed comrades. Over thirty of the bandits had been affected by the poison ale and it seemed that the tainted ale had given them greater strength as they hewed through their comrades with furious strength. Saker having noticed what was happening to his men had taken out a large battleaxe and began cutting down the affected bandits, roaring his displeasure.

Not long afterwards, the affected bandits began seizing up, their bodies spasming and shaking and blood poured from their noses and they died choking and gurgling. The other bandits had watched their comrades go from insanity to death within hours and Saker began bellowing orders to find out what had affected his men and the bandits scrambled to follow their leader's orders.

Martin then reappeared next to Geralt. "What did you do to them?" the White Wolf asked the Dragonborn who smiled and replied, "I merely put something in their ale to make them go into a berserker state and kill anything that they see in their path," he explained. "Comes in useful when I want to thin the numbers of large groups of enemies, or sow chaos among the ranks" he said.

"Well, what you did worked, there are now less of the bandits then there were before," Geralt noted. "But they're on high alert now," he then said, "They'll be on the lookout for whomever did this to them," he added.

"But we now stand a greater chance against less of their original number," Martin pointed out as he drew his sword. Geralt took a moment to admire the lethal beauty of Martin's sword. The sword was as the blacksmith described; the blade the colour of dark smoke drinking in the sun and ripples and waves all along the metal like water. The hilt was long enough to allow for a two-handed grip, but Martin seemed just as able to wield it in one hand and set into the cross-hilt was a large faceted diamond shaped ruby that seemed to glow with inner fire.

"Nice sword," Geralt commented.

"Thank you, but now is not the time to compliment each other's weapons," replied Martin as he also drew a dagger from his belt. The dagger had a dark curved blade and mahogany handle. Geralt felt a sense of dread when he saw the dagger; it was as though it had killed many people, both evil and benign.

"Nice dagger," Geralt muttered quietly as he drew his steel sword. His steel sword was a mundane thing made in Novigrad and had a simple design to it with a straight double-edged blade with a triangular tip, a long handle to accommodate one-handed or two-handed grips and a cross-hilt that curved upwards.

"Ready?" Martin asked Geralt who nodded in readiness. Martin then took in a breath and shouted three words that didn't make any sense to Geralt.

 **YOL… TOOR SHUL!**

A great gout of fire spewed from Martin's mouth and Geralt wondered if he was indeed a dragon in human form. The gout of fire splashed onto the ground, igniting some barrels of ale and causing them to explode and any bandits who were caught in the blast screamed in agony as hungry flames ate at their flesh. Leaping down from their spot, Geralt and Martin then began to kill any bandits that had not been caught in the fire-blast. Geralt's sword severed heads from their bodies and Martin's sword slashed through the chests of any bandit that was foolish enough to face his sword.

Geralt then used the Aard sign to blast back any bandits that tried to get close and Martin had shouted another three words; these words flung bandits back almost thirty feet away from him, breaking bones as the bandits collided with the walls of the courtyard or when they landed on the ground hard.

Soon only a few bandits were left standing and Saker stood from his throne glaring at Geralt and Martin in anger.

"So, a pair of Witchers have come knocking on my doorstep!" Saker growled in an animalistic voice that shook with pent up fury as he fondled the haft of his axe. "For what reason do Witchers attack me and my men?!" he demanded.

"We've come to free this region from your grip!" Martin replied as he held his sword the blade slick with blood.

"You've got quite the nerve to attack me in my own home," Saker remarked, "And you killed most of my men!" he added. "I'll have to deal with you both myself!" he declared as his body shook and what happened next was a transformation.

Saker's body grew larger and with a terrible cracking-crunching sound of bones breaking and reforming, Saker's body began to change. Dark brown fur sprouted from Saker's skin and his jaw turned into a blunt muzzle filled with large sharp teeth. His ears became soft triangular points and his eyes turned darker. His limbs became thick and heavy ending with large clawed paws and his clothes teared away from his person.

Once the transformation was complete, standing in Saker's place was a bear. But this bear was much larger than any ordinary bear and Geralt realised what Saker was; a Berserker. Geralt had heard the legends of the Berserkers of Skellig; warriors who were overcome with a rage that turned them into large bears filled with savage fury and were much harder to kill.

"A were-bear?" Martin remarked in interest before he grinned. "This got a whole lot more interesting!" he stated.

"Your sword's not going to do any good against him!" Geralt warned as he sheathed his Novigrad sword and drew his Witcher silver sword "You'll need a silver weapon to kill him!" he advised.

"Let me worry about that," Martin replied as he readied his sword. Berserker-Saker roared deafeningly and charged forward on four limbs towards Martin who spun to the side and slashed at the supernatural bear. Berserker-Saker roared in displeasure as Martin's sword scut into him. Geralt took note that Martin's sword seemed just able to harm monsters as a silver sword would. The White Wolf thought that the Dragonborn's sword might be an alloy of iron and silver or some other kinds of metals.

Putting aside the theories of what Martin's sword was made of, Geralt dashed over to Berserker-Saker and slashed at the monster with his Witcher silver sword. The monster bear roared in pain as the silver blade of Geralt's sword slashed at its flank and it swiped with one massive clawed paw. Geralt managed to roll to the side avoiding the swipe that would break the bones of a man with ease. Berserker-Saker glared, its bestial eyes looking to and fro at Martin and Geralt. Having decided what to do, Berserker-Saker roared and charged towards Martin who then shouted those unintelligible words once more.

 **FUS… RO DAH!**

Berserker-Saker was flung back thirty feet in the air and crashed against the wall of the castle keep leaving deep cracks in the masonry. The monster bear groaned and growled in pain as it got back up on its four limbs. Then an arrow sank into its shoulder; the supernatural bear roared in pain as Martin nocked another arrow to his bow and pulled the bowstring back. Aiming at the Berserker's head, Martin released the bowstring. With a loud twang and a sharp whistle of air, the black arrow sank into the bear's other shoulder. Berserker-Saker roared in pain filled rage before galloping towards Martin, his teeth bared and hungry for blood.

"AARD!"

A bolt of force slammed into the Berserker making it stumble a little and it turned its massive head to regard Geralt who readied his silver sword to slay this monster. Roaring in rage, the Berserker rose on its back legs, towering above Martin and Geralt with ease. Then there was another shout of strange words.

 **WULD… NAH KEST!**

Martin had somehow disappeared from his spot and appeared behind Berserker-Saker, his sword raised in front of him as though he had swung and the blood on the blade of his sword was fresh.

Berserker-Saker blinked before a spray of blood burst from its stomach and it fell to the ground with a pained moan before breathing its last. Geralt looked at Martin stunned and with caution in his eyes.

"How did you… what was that?!" the White Wolf demanded.

"Just a trick that took me some time to perfect and used many times," replied Martin as though it were of no consequence.

"Is it magic of some kind?" asked Geralt wanting to know what power it was that Martin possessed. If Yennefer or Triss were here, they'd have a field day asking Martin all sorts of questions of how his magic worked and if it could be taught.

"It is magic in a sense," said Martin shrugging his shoulders. "It is called the Thu'um, or the Voice," he explained, "It is the language of dragons in Tamriel, words of power and meaning," he added.

Geralt looked like he wanted to ask more questions, but Martin raised a hand to stop him. "I know you have more questions to ask, and I'll be happy to give you those answers, but not right now," he said.

"Yeah, you're right," Geralt agreed "Let's see what loot these bandits were keeping," he then said.

A quick search of the castle keep turned up a chest that had a bag of gold crowns numbering at about one-hundred pieces along with some jewels and gemstones and some alchemy reagents that Geralt had pocketed.

"Now that Saker has been taken care of, this region can breathe a little easier," Geralt remarked.

"We'd best tell the villagers that Saker has been taken care of, they'd want to reward us," Martin replied with a slight smile.

"I like the way you think," Geralt said with a grin.

Mounting their horses, the pair rode back to the village where they informed the villagers that Saker was no more. The village erupted into celebration and the ealdorman pressed a purse of fifty gold crowns into Martin's hands thanking him and Geralt for getting rid of the King of Bandits.

A small but sumptuous feast was prepared in Martin and Geralt's honour and everyone celebrated the defeat of Saker and his gang. Drinks flowed, and much food was consumed. It was after midnight that Geralt and Martin decided to slip away from the village.

"I've been thinking, I've got some friends who'd be interested in meeting you at Kaer Morhen," Geralt said to Martin who looked at him with interest.

"Kaer Morhen is the Wolf School of Witchers, a stronghold where Witchers are raised and trained to become Witchers," Geralt then said for clarification.

"And these friends of yours would be interested in meeting me, why?" asked Martin.

"Well, it's clear you're not from this world," replied Geralt "And two of my friends are powerful sorceresses, and I imagine you'd want to go home so if we met these friends of mine, they might be able to help you get back home," he explained.

"You make a good point, Geralt of Rivia," said Martin nodding his head "Shall we head out now while the villagers continue their celebrations?" he asked glancing back at the village that was still celebrating.

"Yeah, I think we might," replied Geralt "The sooner we push onto to Kaer Morhen, the sooner we can help find you a way home," he said.

"Then we'd best be on our way," said Martin as he gave a piercing whistle and his black red-eyed stallion came cantering up. Geralt gave a whistle of his own and Roach came trotting up beside him.

The pair then mounted their horses and departed the region for Kaer Morhen.

…

 _A month later…_

"So, this is the Wolf School of Witchers?" asked Martin as he looked at the old semi ruined fortress nestled in the mountains. "It's seen better days, hasn't it?" he remarked dryly.

"Yeah, it's not much on creature comforts, but it's home for all Witchers of the Wolf School," replied Geralt.

Then a voice was heard from above the large gates. "Who goes there? What business do ye have at Kaer Morhen?" shouted the old tired voice.

"Vesemir! It's me! Geralt!" Geralt shouted back.

"Geralt? Is that you, young Wolf? Back from the Path?" demanded Vesemir the head of the Wolf School, his grey head appearing over the parapet of the walls to glare down at Geralt and Martin. Vesemir's eyes narrowed at the sight of Martin beside Geralt "Who's your friend?" he asked.

"His name is Martin the Dragonborn," answered Geralt, "Are you gonna let us in or not?" he yelled.

"Alright, hold on a moment!"

The gates swung open and Geralt and Martin urged their horses to ride into the courtyard of Kaer Morhen. Martin's purple eyes picked out the details of the courtyard.

"I'd thought there'd be more Witchers like you here," the Dragonborn observed.

"Yeah, well… Witchers are a dying breed," Geralt replied sombrely as he dismounted Roach and Martin did the same with Shadowmere. Vesemir came walking down the steps, his snake-like eyes looking at Martin.

"So, who are you, Martin the Dragonborn? And where do you hail from?" the old Witcher asked Martin.

"I am as Geralt said, and you may not believe this but, I am not of this world," replied Martin.

Vesemir looked at Geralt who nodded and said "It's true. Martin isn't from this world. I brought him here so that some of our friends could hopefully help him find a way back to his own world."

"Friends? You mean Yen and Triss?" asked Vesemir.

"Aye, I imagine Yen and Triss could help a great deal with how to get Martin back to his own world," Geralt said.

"Well, Triss is already here and it shouldn't be hard for Yen to come here herself," said Vesemir, "Stable your horses, lads, and we'll see about getting some food for you both," he offered.

Both Martin and Geralt accepted the offer of some food after a month of travelling the road, eating nothing but hard salt-beef and drinking from streams.

After stabling their horses, Geralt and Martin were taken to the mess hall where they were given some bowls of beef stew. After eating some stew, Martin was then taken to the upper rooms where he was sat down and questioned.

"So, who are you? And what did Geralt mean when he called you Dragonborn?" asked Vesemir.

Martin answered truthfully. Vesemir had asked what it meant to be Dragonborn and Martin told him what he told Geralt. Vesemir had asked details about Martin's world and Martin gave him a shortened version of Tamriel's history and its people.

Then entering the room was an astonishingly beautiful woman with hair the colour of blood and striking green eyes and a kind gentle smile on her lips.

"Triss, I thought you were too busy with your books," Vesemir said offhandedly to the red-haired woman who smiled and replied.

"Well, when Geralt told me of Kaer Morhen's new guest, I had to come and see for myself who our new guest was," she said to Vesemir and she then looked at Martin. "So, you're Martin?" she asked him with a soft friendly smile.

"Aye, I am," replied Martin.

"And you're something called a Dragonborn is that correct?" Triss then asked.

"I am," said Martin.

"What is a Dragonborn? Are you a dragon in human form?" Triss asked.

Martin explained to Triss at length what being Dragonborn meant. Triss then asked if he could demonstrate the Thu'um and Martin obliged the redhead, using the Fire Breath shout to light up the hearth in the room before dousing it with the Ice Breath shout. Both Triss and Vesemir looked stunned at the power Martin displayed.

"Can the Thu'um be taught?" Triss asked hopefully.

Martin shook his head and replied, "It takes years of meditation and practice before one can learn even a single word of the Thu'um, even more years of practice to use it," he explained. "I can learn and use words of power in an instant because of what I am. Dragonborn," he said.

"And how are you able to learn and use these words of power so quickly?" Triss enquired.

"I can learn and use words of power by slaying dragons and devouring their souls," replied Martin.

Triss and Vesemir looked stunned when Martin said this. "You… slay dragons and… devour their souls?" Vesemir asked.

"Aye, I've done it many times in Skyrim," Martin said.

"And these dragon souls allow you to learn words of power instantly?" asked Triss and Martin nodded.

"So, how did you find yourself in this world?" Vesemir enquired.

Martin told Vesemir and Triss the story of how he had joined the Mages College of Winterhold and of finding the Eye of Magnus and the trouble it caused when Ancano tried to take it for himself and Martin having to stop him and then found himself in this world. Triss had asked some questions about the Eye of Magnus and Martin told the sorceress what little he knew of the Eye before he asked a question of his own.

"Is it possible for me to go back to my own world?" Martin asked hopefully.

Triss had a slightly mournful look on her beautiful features before she replied "There are some things we can try, but none of them are guaranteed," she confessed.

"There may be someone who can help," Vesemir added looking at Triss meaningfully who nodded before saying "She may be able to help, but it's hard for her to control her power," she said.

"Who is it that may be able to help?" asked Martin.

"I don't think now is the right time to ask our friend to help you," said Triss, "We should try some other ways first before going to her," she advised.

"But wouldn't this friend of yours be of better help?" Martin said.

"She would be, but it's hard for her to control her powers," replied Triss "And there are certain powers in this world that would love to find and capture our friend if she were to use her power too much," she said.

"So, I'm stuck here?" asked Martin unhappily.

"For the time being, yes," replied Triss. "Unless you can think of someone who can help?" she suggested.

Martin was then hit with an idea and he said "I think I do know someone who can help," he announced.

"really? Who?" Triss asked.

"We need to go outside," said Martin "It might not work, but he should be able to come to this world somehow," he mumbled.

"He? He who?" Triss demanded.

Heading out into the courtyard, Martin looked up into the clear sky. Geralt and the other Witchers and Triss were all standing behind him. "You might want to cover your ears, everyone," Martin advised them "This will be quite loud!" he warned.

Before anyone could ask what he meant, Martin shouted a loud powerful word into the air.

 **OD AH VIING!**

…

 _The Throat of the World._

Odahviing the great ruby dragon sat on the peak of the highest mountain in all Tamriel and his master Paarthunax was nearby. Both dragons were meditating and contemplating the loss of their friend, the Dovahkiin.

Odahviing had felt the disturbance from Winterhold where the mages had there had unearthed the Eye of Magnus and the arrogant Thalmor agent Ancano had tampered with it. Both Paarthunax and Odahviing knew that the Eye of Magnus had the power to wipe out all life on Nirn and Odahviing had wanted to intervene to stop the foolish Joore there from destroying the world. But, Paarthunax in his wisdom had said that the Dovahkiin would be able to handle the problem.

And the Dovahkiin had handled the problem but had seemingly at the cost of his own life. Odahviing had spoke with the Joore mages at the College and they had reported that the Dovahkiin had sacrificed himself to stop the power of the Eye from destroying everything. Whilst the rest of Skyrim mourned the loss of their hero, Odahviing knew that his friend and peer was not dead. If he was truly dead, then where was his body? The ruby dragon had known the Dovahkiin for a long time and that he would often charge into battle against insurmountable odds only to receive a few scratches. Paarthunax had shared Odahviing's sentiment that the Dovahkiin was not dead and had said that the hero would return.

Both dragons were meditating when Odahviing heard the rumble of the summoning shout used to summon him. Raising his massive head up, Odahviing began to feel where the Shout had come from or who was it that was summoning him. Only one being had the right to summon him and he was presumed dead.

Paarthunax felt the Thu'um as well and he spoke "it appears the Dovahkiin may not be dead after all," he remarked.

"It would appear so, brother," replied Odahviing as he felt where the Thu'um had come from and he gave an inward smile. It appeared the Dovahkiin had landed in one of the many realms of Mundus and whatever was there was undoubtedly interesting.

"Will you answer him, wo fahdon, my friend?" Paarthunax asked.

"I must," replied Odahviing as he flapped his massive wings and raised himself in the air.

"Sky above and Voice within, brother," Paarthunax said to Odahviing who then flew up into the air and used a special Thu'um that would allow him to travel between realms to where the Dovahkiin was undoubtedly stranded.

…

 _Kaer Morhen._

"What the bloody hell was that?!" Geralt demanded as he rubbed his now sore ears. Many of the other Witchers were rubbing their ears as well and Triss looked dazed by the display of power Martin had just used. There were times where the enhanced hearing of a Witcher was a disadvantage. "Are you trying to turn us deaf?!" the White Wolf yelled at Martin.

"Believe me, if I wanted to harm you with my Thu'um, I would not warn you," replied Martin as his eyes scanned the skies.

"What kind of spell was that?" Triss asked.

"A summoning shout," said Martin "Hopefully, my friend will answer it," he added as his purple eyes scanned the skies. After a few moments, Martin's shoulders slumped and he turned to look at everyone and say something when a loud deafening roar was heard.

"What was that?" Lambert, the youngest of the Wolf School Witchers asked, his hand straying to his silver sword.

Martin smiled as he saw a large shape in the sky, "That would be my friend," he observed as everyone looked up and their jaws did their best to fall to the ground. Circling above Kaer Morhen was a large flying reptile.

"A wyvern?" asked Geralt as his eyes tried to look at the giant flying reptile.

"No, a dragon," Martin smiled as the dragon dove to the ground making all the Witchers draw their swords and Triss readied a spell in her hands. The dragon then pulled up before landing softly in the courtyard without a sound, stunning everyone bar Martin.

Sapphire blue eyes gazed at the Witchers and Triss before looking at Martin who walked up to the beast and spoke to it.

"Drem Yol Lok, Odahviing, it is good to see you again," Martin said to the giant winged reptile.

The Dragon then replied to Martin "Drem Yol Lok, Dovahkiin, I see you have entered a land outside of the Kelle," it said.

Everyone looked at the dragon and Martin in amazement. Triss then spoke up "How is it that you know a dragon?" she asked Martin.

"It's a long story and part of the reason how I became Dragonborn," answered Martin before he looked back at Odahviing and said to him, "My new friends and I were just discussing my predicament," he said "I don't suppose you know of a way to return to Tamriel?" he asked.

Odahviing made a rumbling noise that made it sound as if he were amused and Martin smiled in response. "I thought as much," Martin said to himself.

"The problem lies in the Kelle," said Odahviing "They would prevent us from returning to Nirn," he explained.

"I have three of the Kelle with me," replied Martin.

Odahviing tilted his massive head as if considering this. "Geh, but it would be three versus hundreds," he said "And it would take some time before you could even read all three safely," he pointed out.

"I understand," said Martin "I didn't expect to go back right away," he added before looking at Odahviing and asked him "Couldn't you go back?"

Odahviing rumbled in response "Niid, not even if I wanted to," he said sombrely.

"Then why did you answer my summons if you knew you could not go back?" asked Martin wanting to know why his friend would do such a thing.

"I swore to serve you, Dovahkiin," replied the ruby dragon "And all that was left for me in Nirn were your repeated adventures, so wherever you go, I shall follow," he declared.

"Thank you, wo fahdon, my friend," Martin said.

"Uhh… excuse me? But what are the Kelle you spoke of?" Triss asked while keeping her distance from the dragon whose eyes swivelled to regard.

"The Kelle are the Elder Scrolls," said Martin as he walked over to Shadowmere and reached into the saddle bags and pulled out three large long ornate looking metal covered scrolls.

"These are the Elder Scrolls? I can feel the magic coming from them!" Geralt exclaimed as his medallion vibrated loudly, feeling the sheer power the scrolls had.

Triss looked at the three scrolls before noticing the pull ring and her fingers inched towards it before Martin slapped her hand away. Triss looked at Martin scandalised.

"You don't want to do that," Martin advised the sorceress.

"Why not?" Triss asked rubbing the sore hand Martin had slapped away.

"Each of the scrolls contains an infinite amount of knowledge of the past, present and future," said Martin "And if you were to read even one scroll without the proper preparation, you could risk certain death!" he explained.

"They're that powerful?" asked Triss looking at the Scrolls with fascination.

"Aye, I once saw a man read one of these scrolls with only a few days of preparation and he went blind afterwards," said Martin.

"But I'm guessing you found a way to read them safely, right?" Triss looked at Martin shrewdly.

"I did with some help," replied Martin nodding his head approvingly at Triss's astute observation. "In Tamriel there are forest glades that are millennia in age, and there moths in these ancient glades called Ancestor Moths. If you can attract enough of theses moths, they generate an augur that you can then use to read the Elder Scrolls safely," he said.

"So, the information will just show up on the parchment?" Vesemir asked.

"Actually, there's nothing written on the Scrolls," replied Martin "What information you seek from the scrolls will be put into your mind in the form of a vision and you'll be able to see events that have happened in the past or things to come in the future," he said.

Seeing the sceptical looks on everyone's faces, Martin said "I don't really know how it all works so I understand your scepticism, but this is just how the scrolls work," he explained.

"Then all we need to do is find a glade that is millennia in age and find these moths and read the scrolls and see if there is a way home for you," Lambert said.

"Well, that's assuming there anything similar to the Elder Glades and Ancestor Moths in this world," said Martin.

"So, you really are stuck here," Geralt observed.

"I suppose so," Martin admitted.

"Well, don't worry about it!" Triss suddenly said as she walked up to Martin and gently grasped his hand in her smaller slender hand "We'll help you out as much as we can to get you back home, won't we?" she said looking at Geralt who nodded in agreement.

"Well, we don't have anywhere to stable your… friend," Vesemir said looking at Odahviing with wariness in his serpentine eyes "But you're welcome to stay here as long as needed," he offered to Martin who nodded in thanks.

"I will see to my own needs, Joor," Odahviing then said to Vesemir who blinked and asked "What did you call me?"

"Joor, it means mortal in our tongue, the Dovahkiin and I," replied Odahviing as he prepared to take flight.

"I'm a lot older than I look, you overgrown lizard!" Vesemir snapped sounding a crotchety grumpy old man.

"How old are you?" asked Martin.

"Nine hundred plus years old," Vesemir said.

"Really? Are you part elf?" Martin enquired.

Vesemir gave a chuckle and replied "No, Witchers just live a long damn time, Geralt's almost in his eighties. Lambert's the youngest of us," he said.

"I suppose it has something to do with the mutations you all went through?" Martin observed.

"yeah and Sorceresses are gifted with eternal youth," replied Geralt "Triss is about sixty years old," he said.

"Geralt! There was no need to tell Martin that!" Triss yelled looking embarrassed at this piece of information being told to someone not from their world.

"Well, I must say Lady Triss, you look very good for someone of your years," Martin then said to Triss who blushed and asked "You really think so?"

"You do," replied Martin with a smile on his lips "I imagine some of the women of my world would be quite envious of how good you look at your age and your beauty as well," he said with a small wink. Triss blushed, her cheeks stained crimson at the compliment in Martin's words.

Geralt blinked and some of the other Witchers were grinning slyly at this. It was well known that Triss harboured a deep affection for Geralt and Geralt had reciprocated the sorceress's feelings to a degree but for someone else to pay her such a compliment was surprising.

"How about we get you settled in?" suggested Geralt feeling slightly grumpy at how easily Martin had flirted with Triss.

"Of course," agreed Martin as they headed inside with Triss staying close to Martin, her cheeks still stained crimson.

Heading inside the keep of Kaer Morhen, it was the beginning of a new adventure in Martin's life.

 _TO BE CONTINUED…_

 **A/N:, there the second chapter done and dusted. Some of you had been asking me if I was going to update this and I'm glad you did, otherwise this would've been collecting dust, so thank you to those who had been pestering me to update this.**

 **Originally, this chapter was going to be much shorter than what is seen right now, but in a way I'm glad it's longer than it originally was. As I've said, I'm still new to the Witcher universe so anyone who is a Witcher aficionado and can help me with the Witcher lore, any help would be greatly appreciated.**

 **In other news, I've recently published two new stories; one is the adoption of Shocknawe 425's Ghost Rider/Justice League story A Rider's Duty and Justice and the second story is a Game of Thrones/Justice League/Skyrim crossover Justice League of Amazons: The Black Dragon. I'm also developing a new story that is a crossover between Game of Thrones and Young Justice and Skyrim and I've set up a voting poll on my profile showing a long list of lovely ladies for whom Aegon 'Targaryen'/Blackfyre the Dragonborn can be paired with romantically; so far, Power Girl has taken the lead so if anyone wants to see another lovely lady take the lead spot, get voting.**

 **So, yeah, other than that, not much to say on this, feel free to review and let me know what you all thought and if you enjoyed it and tell me what to improve and I'll try to do better in the next chapter.**

 **Stay gold,**

 **Angry lil' elf.**


	3. Chapter 3

The Witcher: The Black Dragon

Chapter 3

…

 _Kaer Morhen._

The sounds of steel clashing against steel rang out in the courtyard. Geralt pirouetted into a powerful strike that was blocked and was knocked back by a heavy boot. Even though Geralt had taken much harder blows from monsters, the strike still hurt and he moved back holding his sword in a ready stance, the flat of the blade resting on his left forearm. Geralt's opponent, Martin held his sword loosely in one hand, spinning it in lazy circles and a hint of a smile on his lips.

Geralt had to admit that for someone as young as Martin, he was an excellent swordsman. For every strike Geralt had made, Martin had a counter for it. The other Wolf School Witchers and Triss had gathered around watching the White Wolf and the Dragonborn spar for the past hour now, starting off with swords, then fists then back to swords. Geralt wasn't too tired but thin beads of sweat rolled down his forehead and Martin's silver-gold hair was damp with sweat.

"You're very good, you know that?" Geralt said to Martin as he moved forward to attack again and this time Martin met his attack.

"Thank you. I've worked hard to become so," replied Martin as he swung Blackfyre in a horizontal arc. Geralt ducked under the swing before leaping up to move behind him and deliver a strike of his own. But in a display of speed which wouldn't be possible for someone as large as Martin unless they were a Witcher, Martin spun around to block Geralt's strike.

 _CLANG!_

Sparks flew as Martin's Valyrian steel blade collided with Geralt's Novigrad sword. The sparring partners then started to push against each other. Neither of them were giving in and they weren't about to now.

"Always so modest," Geralt joked dryly as he tried to push against Martin who only grinned ferally before suddenly moving back causing Geralt to fall forward. Geralt gracefully turned his fall into a forward roll before spinning on the ball of his foot and was standing back up again.

"C'mon, Geralt! I've got a hundred crowns riding on this!" Lambert shouted from the sidelines.

"C'mon, Wolf! Show that big bastard how a Witcher fights!" Eskel yelled out his own encouragement.

Vesemir and Triss watched on as the White Wolf and the Dragonborn clashed against each other. Triss had a look of concern on her features and Vesemir was evaluating Martin's swordsmanship.

"For someone so young, Martin is an excellent swordsman," Vesemir remarked. "Geralt hasn't been able to get a strike in," he added.

"That's because Geralt isn't using his signs," argued Triss. "If he used the Igni sign, or the Aard sign or even Axii, the fight would be over!" she said.

"Somehow I don't think Witcher signs would bother Martin too much," Vesemir countered. "He has that Voice of his, remember?" he pointed out.

"Yeah, he does," Triss agreed. "I wonder if he'd be willing to teach me?" she said to herself in a quiet thoughtful tone.

"The lad said that it takes years of training and meditation to learn even Word of Power, much less use it," said Vesemir as he heard those words from Triss's mouth.

"Well, it's a good thing Sorceresses are gifted with long life and eternal youth," Triss said with a smile.

"Well, if you really do want to learn from Martin, you'd best wait until he's finished with Geralt. It's been close to an hour now!"

"Yeah, they don't look like they're about to give in though," Triss said as she watched Martin and Geralt strike at each other furiously, their blades clanging and clashing against one another, the scream of steel on steel ringing in the air and sparks flying every time their blades collided.

"You sound concerned, Ms Merigold," Vesemir noted with a smile.

"Of course, I am!" Triss replied defensively a frown on her face.

"But for whom are you concerned for?" Vesemir asked slyly as he looked at Martin.

"I just don't want anyone getting hurt needlessly!" Triss said primly, not wanting to give away anything. Vesemir only cracked a grin at this and Triss looked away with a huff.

Geralt spared a look at his sword, the blade was starting to get notched and cracks were appearing along the blade. If this kept going, he'd have to get a new sword, one that could withstand the steel of Martin's own blade.

Martin having noticed the state of Geralt's sword as well spoke, "Do you want to stop and get yourself a new blade?" he offered.

"Not until I beat you!" Martin smiled to himself; a competitor at heart, he could understand that.

But seeing as how this had gone on for long enough, Martin adopted a more aggressive approach to end the fight. Striking even harder and pressing forward, Martin battered Geralt's sword from side to side before grabbing Geralt's sword arm and threw him to the ground and kicked the Novigrad sword out of Geralt's reach. Pointing the tip of Blackfyre down at Geralt's throat, Martin said one word.

"Yield!"

Geralt raised his hands up in acknowledgement of his defeat. Martin smiled before offering his hand to pull Geralt to his feet.

"I could murder a beer right now!" Geralt groaned. "You really gave me a run for my money!" he exclaimed.

"As did you," replied Martin before he picked up Geralt's steel sword and began to look it over critically. "Shitty craftsmanship… It's a wonder it lasted this long against me!" he said as he looked at the cracked and notched blade.

"Well, sorry I don't have as good a blade as you do," Geralt said. "Your sword is really something else," he added looking at Martin's sword Blackfyre in envy.

"I have some skill in smithing swords," Martin then said. "If you'd like, I can forge you one better than this piece of shit," he offered looking at the steel Novigrad sword in his hand disdainfully. "I can even forge you some armour," he added.

"Don't think I have the money to pay you for such things," said Geralt dryly.

"Did I ask for money?" Martin retorted and Geralt looked at him in surprise.

"You want to forge me a sword without asking anything in return?" Geralt said in disbelief.

"Yes," said Martin.

"Why?" Geralt asked.

"I just want to. I like to make things," said Martin.

"Well, we don't really have a working forge, only a grindstone to sharpen our blades from time to time," Geralt said apologetically.

"Give me a couple of days and I'll build a working forge for this place!"

True to his word, Martin had built a working forge within the span of three days. Everyone had watched as Martin ceaselessly worked on building the forge without even stopping to eat or rest. Lambert commented that Martin couldn't possibly be human and Geralt found himself agreeing with the younger Witcher's words. Eskel even said that his medallion vibrated a little in Martin's presence and whenever he was around Shadowmere or Odahviing for that matter. Geralt was certain that Martin was not a monster, but he wasn't human either, so what was he?

A day after the forge was built, Martin began to smith some swords for all the Witchers of Kaer Morhen. Lambert had expressed his doubt in his usual snide bitter way that Martin wanted to be paid for such services, but Martin had said that he wanted to do it anyway. All the Witchers were stunned by such generosity.

Martin then spent the whole day forging swords, both steel and silver varieties, for the Witchers and the end results were swords that would rival even the best swordsmiths of the Northern Kingdoms. The swords actually looked more like works of art than killing tools and when Lambert said that he wanted a sword that could cut a man in half, not something to dazzle them with, Martin used the steel sword he'd forged for Lambert and clove through a thick oaken bench in one swing. Lambert took the sword with a grunt of acceptance after that. The other Witchers then took their swords with a sense of pride in Martin's work, knowing they had weapons that could cut through men and monsters with ease.

When Martin had spent the day forging the swords, Triss spent that time watching him work with steady interest, fascinated by Martin's work. What was even more fascinating for the redheaded sorceress was the shirtless and sweaty young man hammering the hot metal.

Martin had offered to forge a dagger for Triss, saying to her that it was better to be armed than be unarmed. Triss argued that her magic was more than adequate to protect. Martin had said that there were times where magic could fail to protect the caster and that the dagger would be a last resort weapon should anyone render her magic useless. Seeing the reason in the Dragonborn's words, Triss accepted the offer of a dagger to be made for her and within a few hours, Martin had forged a neat and elegant steel dagger that fitted Triss's hand perfectly. Martin even offered to teach the sorceress some techniques on how to use the dagger effectively in combat. Triss accepted the generous offer and Martin then spent a whole day teaching Triss how to use the dagger he had forged for her.

Afterwards, Martin saw the state of disrepair Kaer Morhen was in and without even asking for permission, he'd set about fixing up the place. Once again, everyone was stunned by Martin's work ethic as he didn't stop for five whole days cleaning up the mess around the keep before eating some salt beef and sleeping a few hours before getting back into it again. Vesemir was beyond pleased that someone was actually taking the time to clean and fix the place. Melitele knows the old Witcher had been trying to get the other Witchers to help fix the place up. The old Witcher practically danced for joy when the rubble blocking the armoury was cleared out and the room swept clean and the weapons within cleaned and repaired and nearly cried with happiness when the roof beams were repaired or replaced with new ones.

Triss and the Witchers watched as Martin tirelessly repaired the roof of the keep. "How long has it been since Martin last ate or slept?" Triss asked faintly as she watched Martin do his work.

"It's been three days," Eskel replied watching Martin in fascination. "He can't possibly be human to do all this!" he exclaimed.

"What gets me is why he's doing all this," Lambert said. "He's got to be expecting that we'll pay him for all the work he's been doing around here!" he added suspiciously.

"He didn't ask for payment when he forged your swords!" Triss shot back giving the steel and silver swords over Lambert's right shoulder.

"I don't exactly trust the guy, Merigold!" Lambert sniped. "Nobody does these kinds of things without expecting something in return!" he added.

"Maybe Martin actually does it because he wants to help?" Triss suggested. "Did you consider that?" she accused.

"Look, Martin seems nice enough I'll give you that, but he's got to be expecting something in return for all that he's done here," Lambert replied. "And the fact he suddenly appeared in our world is a little suspicious for my liking," he said.

"Lambert, that's enough," Eskel growled sternly. "Martin's been nothing but honest with us, we should give him the benefit of the doubt," he said firmly.

"Just saying what I think," Lambert said. "Or have the Witchers taken that from me too?" he complained. Eskel sighed but didn't say anything to that. Nearly everyone in Kaer Morhen knew of the young Witcher's thoughts on being a Witcher and what most people thought of them.

"Well, I think Martin's doing all this because he wants to," Triss declared. "Maybe you should give him a chance, Lambert?" she said to Lambert.

"If he gives me a reason to trust him, then I'll give him a chance!" Lambert retorted as he stalked off. Triss glared daggers at Lambert's back as he walked off before she looked back at Martin who was just finishing repairing the roof.

"He does good work, doesn't he?" Vesemir said walking up to Triss and Eskel. "I haven't the place looking so good in decades!" he crowed.

"Well, there is the fact that Martin's barely stopped to eat or sleep since he started," Triss commented.

"Concerned for our new friend, aren't we?" Vesemir grinned and Eskel grinned as well as if knowing what Vesemir was talking about. Triss blushed a shade of pink before managing to give out a retort.

"Of course, I'm concerned for Martin! If you had stopped admiring Martin's handiwork, you'll know that he's barely stopped to eat or sleep! The last time he had any food or rest was three days ago!" Triss exclaimed.

"Well, that is slightly concerning," Vesemir mumbled. "But you have to admire what he's done to the old place," he said looking at the refurbished walls and rooves. "Melitele knows I've been trying to fix up the place myself for years, no thanks to anyone here!" he added with a glare at Eskel who merely shrugged carelessly in response.

"And then Martin comes along and does it all within a couple of weeks! It's astonishing what the man can do!" Vesemir then said.

"But if he keeps going like this, he'll die of exhaustion!" Triss yelled in disbelief. "I'm going to have Martin get some rest and food! Or I'll drag him off that roof myself!" she announced as she stormed off in Martin's direction.

Vesemir and Eskel chuckled as they watched Triss stomp off in the direction where Martin had just started fixing the masonry. "That girl's really taken a shine to our new friend, hasn't she?" Vesemir said to Eskel.

"It was almost like the first time she met Geralt," Eskel joked. "I've seen the looks she throws Martin's way since he showed up. If I didn't know better, then I'd say Ms Merigold had a crush on Martin," he said.

"Ah young love, reminds me of a time I met a young lass from White Orchard," Vesemir said nostalgically. "The way she looked at me when I first met her…" he added with a chuckle.

"Spare me the details, Old Wolf," Eskel said in mock horror. "I don't need to hear your debauched tales," he joked.

"Debauched? I could tell you tales of Witchers who would be more debauched than any of you lads today!" Vesemir laughed and Eskel joined in the laughter as they headed back into the newly repaired keep and decided to share some stories over some ale.

…

Martin grunted as he mixed some fresh mortar and slathered the grey grainy mud onto the broken masonry on the breach in the outer wall. Once the mortar was slathered on, Martin the lifted and placed the large bricks on before slathering some more mortar on top of them and repeated the process.

Martin's sharp sense of hearing caught the telltale thumping of a heartbeat approaching. "Yes, Ms Merigold? What can I do for you?" Martin asked without turning to look in Triss's direction.

Triss almost stopped in her tracks. "How did you… never mind, I don't need to know. I came to see fi you wanted any food or rest," the sorceress said. "You haven't had anything to eat, or any sleep three days ago!" she stated.

"I was busy," Martin replied as if it were no consequence. "I had a lot of work to do and I have plenty more to do," he said as he laid some more brick and mortar.

"That's no excuse to not take some rest!" Triss protested angrily.

"I will, once I'm done here," Martin said simply. Triss walked up to Martin and spun him around and looked up at him, her green eyes narrowing dangerously.

"You are going to take the next few days to rest, or I am going to do something that will make you regret doing all this work! Do you understand?" the sorceress said to Martin.

Martin grinned which only annoyed Triss some more. "And what can you offer to make consider taking the next few days to rest?" he enquired.

"What?" Triss spluttered.

"A threat isn't going to make me stop, so I need some incentive to stop," replied Martin. "So, what can you offer me to make me consider stopping for a few days?" he asked his amethyst eyes twinkling with mischief.

Triss gritted her teeth before saying, "Perhaps you would partake in a meal with me?" she suggested tightly.

"A meal? Is that all you can offer?" Martin said slyly. "Surely you can do better than that, Ms Merigold," he added.

"Well, I would offer you gold," Triss muttered.

"Actually, a meal with you would be perfect," Martin suddenly said as he put his tools down and walked over to a water trough and pulled off his shirt. Triss swallowed a lump in her throat as she once more gazed upon the acres of scarred and muscled skin. Martin didn't have as many scars as the Witchers of Kaer Morhen did, but the ones he did have made him look very appealing and the rippling muscles beneath the skin added the allure. Triss then tried to say something when Martin picked up the water trough and up-ended the contents over his head. Triss blushed a deep shade of red as the water rushed down Martin's body washing away all the sweat, grime and dirt off his body.

Martin then turned around to look at Triss, his silver-gold hair sticking to his head flatly. "Shall we?" he asked and Triss gave a startled little jump on the spot as though she had been caught doing something she wasn't supposed to be doing.

"O-of course! Let's!" Triss yelped and she started speed-walking towards the keep of Kaer Morhen ahead of Martin if only to avoid looking at the sight of a soaking Dragonborn.

"Sweet Melitele preserve me!" Triss whispered to herself as she quickly walked into the great hall of the keep. Martin followed in shortly after and headed to the room that he was given and dressed himself in some cleaner clothes before heading back into the great hall where he found Vesemir, Eskel, Geralt and Lambert all seated at a table drinking from tankards of ale.

"Gentlemen," Martin greeted cheerfully as he took a seat beside Eskel.

"Martin! Good to see you drag yourself away from your work, young Dragon!" Vesemir boomed hoisting his tankard of ale in a toast.

"Young Dragon?" Martin repeated in confusion.

"Well, because of what you call yourself, Dragonborn, a good title wouldn't you say?" Vesemir said as he took a pull of his ale.

"As good as a title gets," Martin said agreeing with the centuries-old Witcher.

"Damn fine work you've done fixing this place up by the way," Vesemir then said proudly. "I've been trying to get the lads to fix this place up for decades!" he added giving the younger Witchers a glare.

"Witchers slay monsters! They don't fix castles, walls and rooves," Lambert responded.

"Still, it's about damn time someone around here fixed the old place up," Vesemir said ignoring the young Witcher. "Haven't seen the place looking so good in decades!" he laughed.

"Well, since you've allowed me to stay here, I thought I might as well try to spruce the place up before it caves in," replied Martin.

"It's amazing what you've done so far," Geralt put in. "And although I've yet to test these new blades, you'd certainly make a killing as a swordsmith around here," he added.

"Yeah, perhaps you could go around selling your skills as a swordsmith?" Eskel suggested to Martin who looked thoughtful for a moment before shaking his head.

"Nah, I prefer to swing a sword rather than make one, but I can do both if need be," the Dovahkiin said.

"So, what brings you in here, Dragon?" Vesemir then asked. "Last I saw, you were fixing the breach in the wall," he said.

"Ms Merigold persuaded me to take a rest for a couple of days," replied Martin. "I would've kept going, but she offered to have a meal with me if I stopped for a while," he said.

"Merigold's been hanging around you an awful lot lately," Lambert observed casting a glance at Geralt who didn't look bothered by the comment. "Makes one think doesn't it?" the young Witcher added.

"Lambert," Eskel said warningly.

"What? I'm just saying!" Lambert said.

"I don't have a problem with Ms Merigold hanging around me all the time," replied Martin "I enjoy her company," he added honestly.

"As do others," Lambert grinned looking at Geralt who simply glared at him in response.

"Lambert," Eskel growled warningly.

Lambert got the hint and stopped talking.

"Well, I imagine Triss will be in the kitchen in right now," Vesemir then said. "Not sure how good a cook she is, tho'," he added.

"Then I'd best go help her," Martin said as he stood from his spot and headed over to the kitchens.

Geralt then looked at Lambert and said to him "Did you have to go and say that?" he asked the young Witcher.

"What? Everyone knows of Merigold's schoolgirl crush on you," replied Lambert. "And now that Martin's shown up, she's been hanging around him a lot more than she does you," he said.

"Triss is free to hang around whomever she pleases," Geralt replied. "Besides, I'm with Yennefer," he said with a smile.

"At least until you both get into a row and break up for the umpteenth time again," Lambert muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" Geralt asked.

"Nothing. Just chunnering to myself is all," Lambert said sullenly.

…

Martin found Triss in the kitchens staring at the hearth and the pots and pans.

"Need some help, Ms Merigold?" Martin asked in amusement and Triss gave a startled little jump on the spot.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I was just trying to think of something you would like to eat," replied Triss feeling a little embarrassed at how Martin sneaked up on her without her hearing.

"I'm more than capable of cooking for us both, Ms Merigold. I did it all the time back in Skyrim," Martin said as he walked over to the pantries and began to pull ingredients from them and collected some pots and utensils.

"But I wanted to cook for you! And stop calling me 'Ms Merigold'! I thought we were friends by now," Triss said.

"Very well then, Triss. Now, what would you like to eat?" asked Martin as he began to chop up some onions and carrots.

"Maybe some roast chicken, if it's not too much trouble?" Triss suggested. Martin's hands worked quickly as he started chopping and preparing ingredients with superlative speed and within half an hour, a whole chicken carcass was gutted and stuffed with bread crumbs, herbs, onions and bacon and the skin was rubbed in garlic and honey and put in the oven which was roaring hot.

Triss had watched as Martin worked in the kitchen astounded at how easily he navigated his way through it. "I thought most men disdained working in the kitchen," she said more to herself than to Martin. "Most men consider cooking a woman's work," she added.

"I'm not most men," said Martin. "Besides I don't have a wife to cook for me and I had to feed myself than live on salt beef all the time," he added.

"A warrior, a hero, a builder, a smith and now a cook? You'd make a good husband for some lucky woman one day," Triss said with a soft smile.

Martin looked at the redhead and grinned. "Are you offering, Ms Merigold?" he asked with a grin and his purple eyes glowing slightly.

Triss laughed and replied, "Maybe," she flirted. Martin walked up to her so that he was standing in her personal space. Triss felt her breath hitch in her throat as she Martin stood closely to her. It was times like this she realised just how physically tall and big Martin was; he towered over her by a foot and a half and his broad muscles made her feel tiny. She then wondered just what it would feel to feel the man's embraces.

Martin then whispered to Triss, "Perhaps I would marry someone like you?" he offered huskily. Triss felt her womb stir in lust and she felt herself blushing like a tomato. Why was this man affecting her so much with his presence and his words? She was a sorceress for Melitele's sake! She was schooled in the ways of magic and was skilled at politics to boot! She wasn't swayed by some charming words!

Yet, Martin's words did charm her and she felt herself enjoying them as much as she enjoyed watching him work. And his body… by the gods, that body! How long had it been since she last lay with a man? Triss couldn't remember the last time she slept with a man, since she'd ardently hoped that Geralt would notice. Triss knew she was beautiful or at least pleasing to the eye. All sorceresses were gifted great beauty upon completing their trials and earning their magic and Triss was no different.

But Triss was in love with Geralt the White Wolf. Unhappily so, she would admit, since Geralt was enamoured with Yennefer, but for another man to take an interest in her? It was astonishing.

Triss looked up at Martin, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to find the words to say something. Martin leaned down closer, his face inching towards when he suddenly stopped.

"Chicken's ready," he suddenly said, and he moved away leaving Triss dazed and dizzy and panting for breath.

As Triss found her voice again, it was taken away once more when the scent of roast chicken hit her nostrils and her mouth watered for a taste of sweet succulent meat. The scents of garlic and honey on the crispy skin of the chicken and the scent of onion, herb and bacon stuffing added to that delicious scent. Triss stomach rumbled loudly and she flushed red with embarrassment as Martin gave an amused smile.

"It must smell good if your stomach rumbled that loud," he noted.

"I haven't eaten since breakfast," Triss said in small voice.

"Well, there's still more to come, so can you hold on for a little longer?" Triss nodded reluctantly but she didn't have to wait long when Martin quickly prepared some gravy and boiled greens to go with the roast chicken.

Piling the food onto a platter, Martin then lead Triss out into the great hall where the others were still seated.

"Gods, what is that smell?" Lambert asked as his Witcher senses alerted him to the smell of roast chicken. "It smells good!" he exclaimed and his serpentine eyes caught sight of the roast chicken on the platter being carried by Martin.

"You cooked that?!" Lambert asked Martin as the Dovahkiin set the platter in the middle of the table.

"Aye. I do it all the time back in Skyrim," replied Martin as he laid out some plates in front of everyone.

"I never pegged you for a cook," Eskel remarked as he gazed upon the roast chicken and gravy with deep hunger in his viper eyes.

"It's not as if I have a wife to cook for me," said Martin as he took out a knife and began to carve off slices of the roast honeyed meat and places the slices on the plates in front of everyone. "I'm a single bachelor living alone," he added. "I had to cook for myself. Can't live on strips of hard salt beef forever," he then said.

"On that, I can't agree more, young Dragon," Vesemir rumbled as he took up a knife and fork. "But first a toast," he declared as he took up his mug of ale.

"To Martin!" the old Witcher said loudly. The other raised their mugs and repeated the words before eating the food.

"Gods, I haven't had food this good since I last went to Zerrikania!" Lambert said through a mouthful of meat and gravy. "And this comes a close second to what I had in Zerrikania!" he added as he took another bite.

"What brought you to Zerrikania?" asked Eskel as he bit a chunk out of a chicken leg with a groan of satisfaction.

"A contract on a manticore that was terrorising a local prince's fiefdom," replied Lambert. "Afterwards the prince threw a feast to honour my victory over the manticore," he said. "And the spices on those foods! I almost didn't take the gold afterwards the food was that good," he added.

"Ever tell you the time I took a contract in Undvik?" said Eskel.

"No, what happened?" Lambert asked.

"Ships were being wrecked along the coast. Thought it was just inter-clan rivalries if not for the fact that the bodies of the sailors were being torn up and eaten," Eskel said as he recounted the tale. "turned out, it was an very old water hag who had a brain between her ears and organised a bunch of drowners into a makeshift army and used them to attack ships," he added.

The next few hours were spent swapping stories with Martin sharing some exploits of his adventures in Skyrim.

"You charged into a vampire den alone?" Triss asked in horror.

"It was nothing I couldn't handle, otherwise I would not be here to tell you about it," said Martin.

"But, wouldn't anyone accompany you to watch your back?" Triss enquired.

"nah, the Companions trusted me to do it alone and the money was good," Martin said as he took a bite of his food.

"They did that? Just throw their recruits into dangerous situations like that?" Geralt asked.

"It's how we learned, training can only teach you so much," replied Martin as he took another slice of chicken and slathered some gravy on it before bringing it to his mouth and ate it.

The Witchers nodded as agreeing with what Martin said. Training was all well and good, but if you didn't put yourself into a dangerous situation every now and then, then you would stagnate in your growth.

Soon the meal was finished and Geralt sat back and breathed a deep breath. "Damn! Hadn't had food that good in ages," he stated.

"Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it," replied Martin as he sat back in his seat as well.

"I feel like a sylvan that's just an entire barnful of food," Lambert groaned. "I don't think I'll be able to move at all!" he declared.

"Well, I enjoyed the meal," Eskel said. "And it'll be a while before I enjoy another like it again!" he added.

"Going back on the Path, Eskel?" Geralt asked his fellow Witcher.

"Aye. Feeling cooped up in here, no offence to any of you of course," Eskel said.

"None taken, young Wolf," said Vesemir. "I've been thinking of heading out on the Path myself, put my new swords to the test," he added.

"Well, let me know how they perform," Martin said to the old Witcher. "I like to know if they work well at the very least," he added.

"Oh, don't worry, I've got the perfect test for them in mind," replied Vesemir. "The forktails in the Mountains needed to be culled back and I've been looking for an excuse to get back out on the Path for a little while," he said.

"Would you like any help?" Martin asked respectfully.

"Matter of fact, I could use some help," said Vesemir. "And no, I'm not getting old!" he then said glaring at the other Witchers. "I'd just like to see Martin's skills in actual combat firsthand!" he declared.

"I could come along too," Triss offered. "I'd like to see your Thu'um in action," she said to Martin with a smile.

"You're welcome to, Ms Merigold," Martin smiled.

"Back to calling me Ms Merigold again? You can call me Triss! I'm not some schoolteacher!" Triss snapped.

"Yeah. You're too pretty to be one," Martin joked and Triss laughed in response.

Everyone then began to head off to bed. Martin headed to his room and Triss followed him. "Well, Good night Ms Merigold," Martin then said to the redhead who nodded before she looked at Martin nervously.

"Something wrong?" the Dragonborn asked the redhead who blushed before leaning up to kiss him on the cheek before pulling and scuttling off to bed herself. Martin blinked and touched the spot where Triss's lips touched his cheek before smiling and headed off to bed to get some sleep.

…

 _ **TO BE CONTINUED…**_

 **A/N: there, the third chapter done and dusted. I'm sorry it took me a while and while this is mostly just filler with a bit of fluff thrown in, I thought I'd give you all something to look at to keep you all sated. No Ciri or Yennefer yet, but maybe in the next chapter they'll appear. Speaking of Ciri, some of you have said that you wanted Ciri to end up with the Dragonborn and if you had said that when I first started writing the story, I would've done it, but since I've learnt a bit more about the Witcher through the games, I've actually learnt that Ciri is a lesbian of you choose certain dialogue in her segments in Witcher 3, so unless it is confirmed that Ciri is bisexual or bi-curious, I think I'll have to pass on pairing Ciri with the Dragonborn. And to certain reviewers out there, I'm still learning about the Witcher, so if you really have a problem with how I portray characters like Triss, then find some other Witcher story, crossover or otherwise, that keeps characters in canon. There's no wrong thing with fanfiction (unless you count horrible spelling and grammar) and as fanfiction writers, we can do what we like with characters, so I do apologise with how I portray certain characters, but if you have a problem with it, then find some other story to read.**

 **Okay, onto other things…**

 **I'm working on a new story that is an Arrow 'verse (Arrow, Flash, Legends and Supergirl)/Skyrim/Game of Thrones/Mortal Kombat/Witcher crossover that is using one of my popular ideas, my Justice League of Amazons idea where Aegon the Dragonborn ends up in a DC 'verse where a virus has wiped nearly every male on Earth and you get the picture and I've set up a voting poll so you know what to do.**

 **Also, I've been working on another story that is an alternate route to my Fallout/Game of Thrones story where Aegon Targaryen/Blackfyre ends up in the Mojave/New Vegas. It's an idea that's been bouncing around in my head for a while since I posted the first chapter of my Fallout/Game of Thrones crossover, but I'll hold off on it until I can get a couple of chapters out for the current Fallout/GoT crossover which might be a little while.**

 **But anyways, I've talked enough. Leave a review if you liked what you read and if you didn't tell me what to improve or if you're just being abusive, there's the exit.**

 **Best wishes,**

 **Angry lil' elf.**


	4. Chapter 4

The Witcher: Dragonborn

 _Chapter 4: Cleaning House_

…

Vesemir breathed in the fresh mountain air; a brisk light breeze was blowing the mountains bringing with it the scent of fresh snow and wild flowers, but there was also the faint that Vesemir knew was coming from Forktail nests nestled in the crags and slopes of the mountain valley.

Mounted on their horses on either side of the centuries old Witcher was Martin the Dragonborn and Triss Merigold of Maribor. The other Witchers of the Wolf School had volunteered to stay behind, lazy whoresons.

"Nice to have a bit of company for a change," Vesemir commented to Martin and Triss as their horses cantered along the beaten path leading into the mountains. "Culling Forktails is a messy bit of business and not many of the lads ware willing to do it, at least not without payment," he grumbled.

"Well, I'm curious to see what Forktails look like and if they're any way similar to dragons back home," Martin replied.

"Can't imagine any draconids being similar to dragons or your friend Odahviing," Vesemir remarked. "Where is that overgrown firebreather anyway?" he asked.

"He's probably flying high above us, keeping a watchful eye on me," replied Martin as he gave a glance up at the sky. There was a slight smile on Martin's lip as though he had seen something high in the sky. "So, what can you tell me about forktails? Anything I should be concerned about?" he asked.

"Well, forktails aren't like dragons, in the sense that they don't spit fire from their mouths," replied Vesemir and the Witcher then explained some of the differences between forktails and other draconids from actual dragons. Martin listened attentively, asking questions when he needed something explained in greater detail and the best tactics to use against draconids. Vesemir then offered to give the Dovahkiin a tome detailing all the monsters of the world and the methods and tactics needed to kill them.

When told of how silver or dimeritium weapons were best suited for killing monsters such as werewolves, necrophages and the like, Martin commented, "Well, when Geralt and I fought Saker in his bear form, my sword didn't seem to have any problem hurting him."

"What kind of steel is your sword anyway, and how did you come by it?" Triss asked as she gave Blackfyre a glance.

"I don't know," Martin admitted. "I suppose it goes back to when I was found as a baby and taken in by the people who raised me. No-one knew who I belonged to, only that my baby blanket held the symbol of a three-headed dragon and some strange language was stitched on it," he said.

"You're an orphan?" Triss asked her green eyes softening in sympathy.

"Well, I don't know," replied Martin. "My family could've been in trouble and left me in Cyrodil for safety, or they could've abandoned me. I suppose I won't know until I find them and ask them why," he said. "But the people who raised me were good people and when they learnt of my deeds in Skyrim, they were proud," he added.

"But how does your sword fit into this?" Triss asked.

"Well, after the first month of being in Skyrim, a courier showed up at my doorstep and handed me a package. The courier said that the person who sent the package didn't say who they were, just that they were a friend," Martin said. "And when I opened the package and found this sword, there was a note saying that this sword belonged to my family and that its name was Blackfyre and that it was made of Valyrian steel, and that it was my birthright," he explained.

"And I asked every nobleman, smith and archivist I met if there was a family that had a sword named Blackfyre and they turned up with nothing," Martin said in frustration. "I ultimately decided to drop the matter and just use the sword and thus far, it's served me well against every enemy, be they man, mer, beast, monster or dragon I've ever faced," he added.

"Well, then your sword shouldn't have any problem against forktails and monsters then," Vesemir said. "But I'd advise you not to advertise that your sword can kill monsters, beasts, humans and non-humans. No telling who would want a sword like that," he added. Martin nodded his head at that.

After an hour riding along the dirt path up into the mountains, they soon reached the mouth of the caves that riddled the ranges. Vesemir dismounted his horse and said, "We'll go on foot from here. The nests will be all along these caves and plateaus," he said.

"Hold on one minute. Just need to grab something from my saddlebags," Martin said as he reached into the saddlebags of Shadowmere and pulled a sword with a long and curved blade and the hilt made of bone.

"A sword? What about Blackfyre?" Triss asked curious as to why Martin pulled out another sword.

"Just a theory I want to test," replied Martin as he bucked the sword on his left hip. Vesemir looked at the sword in interest; his first thought was that the sword looked similar to an Ofieri or Zerrikanian sabre/scimitar, but the shape of the sword didn't seem to fit. Putting aside that thought, Vesemir drew his Wolven steel sword and Triss readied a fireball in her hands as they entered the caves.

"A little dark in here," Triss muttered then Martin raised a clenched hand before suddenly unclenching it and a small orb of bright white light floated up beside his head, just above him.

"Neat trick," Triss said in delight. "You'll have to teach me some of your magic," she mused.

"Of course, Ms Merigold, and perhaps you can teach me some of yours?" suggested Martin with a friendly smile and Triss smiled back in response. Vesemir shook his head before he said to them, "If you two are done flirting, can we get on with this?" he said.

Triss blushed red as a tomato and tried to stammer out some sort of response to defend herself, but words failed her, and she decided to stay quiet for the time being. Martin didn't seem bothered by Vesemir's words and looked seemingly focussed on the task at hand.

Vesemir's cat eyes had no problem seeing in the darkness of the cave and he could pick out evidence of forktails living in the caves from bones of previous kills, shed scales and forktail eggs that had hatched in recent months.

"Should've done this months ago," the old Witcher grunted. "Forktails are menace to this valley!" he added.

"Well, we're here now, let's just clear them out and we can get back to Kaer Morhen," Triss said soothingly.

Vesemir then focussed his hearing and he could hear the distant hissing and roaring of forktails from the other side of the caves. "This way," he whispered quietly. "The caves lead out to the other side of the mountain, I can hear the forktails out there," he added.

Martin then drew the strange sword from his hip and there was a distinct crackling sound and small sparks of lightning danced along the silvery steel blade of the sword and strange runes ran along the flat of the blade.

"Stranger and stranger," Vesemir murmured. "What kind of sword is that?" he asked Martin.

"It's called Dragonbane, a specially made and enchanted Akaviri katana that was designed with killing dragons in mind," the Dragonborn said.

"But Forktails aren't dragons," Triss pointed out.

"I know, but I want to see if Dragonbane will have any affected on draconids. Against all others, Dragonbane just shocks people with lightning," replied Martin.

"Well, we'll find out soon enough," Vesemir said as they reached the exit of the caves and soaring a short distance away were some forktails; there was a large adult female, a smaller adult male and three younglings. The female forktail saw the Witcher, the sorceress and the Dragonborn approaching and gave a baleful hissing roar, lashing its barbed bladed tail menacingly. The adult male landed on the plateau and dashed towards the three intruders, its mouth opened displaying its sharp teeth.

"Ugly bastard!" Vesemir growled as he cast the Aard sign, knocking the forktail back before spinning his steel sword in a figure out motion, landing a few hits on the creature. Martin raced towards the female and used his Thu'um.

 **FUS!**

The female was knocked back slightly, and Martin slashed at the monster's face with Dragonbane and was rewarded with a squealing hiss. Triss flung fireballs at the three younglings who flew about in the air, avoiding the magical flames and tried to swoop down onto the sorceress who kept them at bay with her magic.

Vesemir danced out of the male's reach, while flicking his sword at key spots in the monster's body, aiming for the arteries and nerve spots. Then the male forktail rushed Vesemir and slapped his sword out of his hands with one swipe of its tail. Vesemir backpedalled rapidly, his hand raised to cast the Aard sign, when the forktail's tail knocked him flat on his back. The old Witcher grunted slightly as he hit the ground and the male was on him instantly, trying to bite his neck and land a fatal blow. Vesemir dodged each lunge the forktail made before casting the Aard sign into its chest, flinging it into the air.

Martin twisted and turned his body about to avoid each lashing strike the female made with its heavy tail. Swinging his fist, Martin punched the female in the jaw and was rewarded with a crunching sound and the forktail stumbled, hissing angrily as the force behind the Dovahkiin's punch nearly dislocated its jaw and broke a few of its teeth. Martin pressed the advantage and thrust Dragonbane into the female's neck and blood spurted out and splashed onto the ground, staining the earth and Dragonbane with thick oily blood. The female gave a keening scream as the enchantment on Dragonbane hit with the force of a lightning bolt and nearly flash-fried it before it knocked Martin back with a swing of its tail. Martin grunted slightly but grinned; he had hit a major artery as the female was bleeding profusely and wouldn't last much longer in this fight.

Triss had managed to kill two of the younglings, but the third one was smart and fast enough to avoid the fireballs Triss cast. Zipping down and around the sorceress, the forktail knocked Triss onto her front. Triss hit the ground with a yelp and she felt the forktail leap onto her back and rake its claws into her back. Triss gave a scream of pain as the sharp claws of the forktail pierced her clothing and flesh.

Martin heard Triss's cry of pain and he roared in fury and he charged over to the youngling, violently pulled it off Triss and snapped its neck with his bare hands before throwing it to the ground, where the sound of bones crunching was heard. The female saw its youngling dead on the ground before giving a baleful roar of anguish and charged towards Martin. But the female didn't get close as Triss cast a fireball right into its face and nearly made it explode.

Vesemir managed to regain his sword and finished off the male forktail. Martin helped Triss up and asked her, "Are you alright, Ms Merigold? Are you hurt?" he asked in worry.

"Ergh, I'm fine, Martin," Triss replied. "Just a scratch. Nothing an ointment and a long hot bath won't fix," she joked.

"We'd better check those wounds just in case," Vesemir said. "We don't want you bleeding out or getting an infection," he added.

"It's nothing, I'm fine," Triss protested.

"I've seen forktail wounds go bad because people won't get them treated," Vesemir snapped. "Just let us look at those scratches," he barked.

Triss felt a little embarrassed as she partially undid her jacket and shirt to allow Martin and Vesemir examine the scratches. Her cheeks were a flaming red as she felt Martin's eyes on her back and she felt an absurd urge to cover herself up. But Triss willed herself to not cover her body and let Vesemir examine her wounds and she watched Martin's facial expressions. To her surprise and consternation, Martin didn't seem to affected; there was a slight raise of the eyebrows, but otherwise there was no reaction.

"You're very lucky these are only superficial, Triss," Vesemir commented as he finished examining the scratched skin. "If these were made by an adult, we'd have to bandage them up," he added.

"Well, that's good, I really don't feel like being bandaged up," Triss joked as she buttoned up her shirt and jacket, still feeling conscious of Martin's eyes on her.

"Well, these forktails won't be bothering anyone for a while," Vesemir then said and he looked at Martin and said, "So, how did that sword of yours perform?" he asked.

"Performed well enough, but the forktails didn't seem affected by the enchantment, they were simply zapped with lightning," replied Martin as he wiped the blade of Dragonbane clean with a rag he pulled from his pocket. "Makes me wonder if it will affect actual dragons of this world?" he wondered out loud.

"Well, cheer up," Triss said to Martin. "It's still a pretty good sword," she added.

"It is," Martin agreed as he sheathed Dragonbane before adding, "Shall we head back to Kaer Morhen?" he suggested.

"Good idea," Vesemir said. "I could murder a pint of ale right now," he added as he tilted his head and the sound of vertebrae popping was heard.

The three then headed back to their horses and rode back to Kaer Morhen where they found the rest of the Wolf School Witchers preparing their horses. "Off so soon, lads?" Vesemir asked them.

"Yeah, sorry we can't stick around," Eskel replied apologetically. "Nothing against present company, but I'm getting cooped up in here," he said.

"Yeah, and my funds are getting a little light," Lambert put in. "I've heard that there's some juicy contracts over in Temeria," he said.

"And I'm riding off to Nilfgaard to meet up with Yen," Geralt said. "She'd want to hear about Martin, it'd be something that'd interest her," he added.

"Are you sure you should tell Yen, Geralt?" Triss asked in concern. "She's in Nilfgaard and there's no amount of people there who'd want to learn about Martin," she said.

"People are gonna find out about Martin either way, and his pet dragon," Geralt replied. "Besides, Yen might have a few answers as to how to get Martin back to his own world," he said.

"I dunno, I kinda like this world," Martin said casually. "There's more going on here than back home," he mused.

"Well, stick around," Triss smiled at Martin. "There's plenty more to see," she said.

Lambert had a sly smile on his face and he made ready to make a comment, but Eskel shot him a look that made the younger Witcher stay silent.

"So, what about you, Martin? Where are you gonna go?" Triss asked.

"Don't know," Martin admitted shrugging his broad shoulders. "It's a big world, need to look at a map before deciding where to go," he said.

"Well, I hear Novigrad is nice this time of year," Triss said casually. "I've been there myself, I could show you around," she offered.

"I'd like that, Ms Merigold," Martin said graciously.

Triss sighed irritably. "Can you stop calling me 'Ms Merigold'?" she complained. "It makes me sound older than I am!" she whined.

"I'm just showing you courtesy, Ms Merigold," Martin replied with a hint of a wicked grin on his bearded lips.

Triss puffed up her cheeks in annoyance that made her look cute and adorable and some of the Witchers had looks of amusement on their faces at how Martin needled the sorceress.

"How far is it to Novigrad?" Martin then asked.

"It's about a month's ride," Vesemir replied. "Three quarters that if you don't stop," he added.

"How about by flight?" Martin asked.

"Well, I think you'd get there in about a couple of days," Vesemir said. "But, I'd advise flying on your dragon to Novigrad, the people there can get jumpy if a dragon shows up in Novigrad," he warned.

"We can get there instantly if we go via portal," Triss said. "We can leave right now, if you'd like," she added.

"Sure, might be easier than flying on Odahviing's back, Odahviing can follow the sound of my Voice when I call him," Martin said.

"Have you got everything you need?" Triss asked.

"Have you?"

Triss quickly ran to her room and packed what she needed before shrinking her bags to fit inside her pockets before re-joining Martin in the courtyard of Kaer Morhen. "Have everything?" Martin asked and Triss nodded.

"Well, let's get going," Martin then said.

"What about your horse?" Lambert asked.

"Don't worry, Shadowmere will come when I call him, no matter where I am," Martin replied.

"Huh, kinda like Roach," Geralt muttered.

"You ready?" Triss asked. "First timers tend to vomit out their lunch going through a portal the first time," she warned.

"I'll be fine," said Martin.

"Okay then." Triss then chanted in the Elder tongue and her hands glowed with magic and a portal was opened. "Step on through," Triss said to Martin who stepped through the portal and Triss then followed after him.

…

 _Outskirts of Novigrad._

Martin stood in a meadow and Triss moved to stand beside. In the distance was the port city of Novigrad.

"A lot nicer than I thought it would be," Martin commented.

"Don't be fooled, Novigrad might be a modern city state unclaimed by any sovereign nation, but it does have its fair share of players wanting to rule the city," Triss warned him. "But, aside from that, it's a place where mages and non-humans can walk around freely," she said. "But who knows how long that will last," she added sombrely.

"Are you alright, Ms Merigold?" Martin asked.

"I'm fine, just the cynical musings of a sorceress who's seen what happens when humans, mages and non-humans clash," replied Triss. "C'mon! Let's head to the city!" she said.

Martin then gave a piercing whistle and Triss could just feel the magic in the sound and then there was a s loud whinny and Shadowmere came trotting up casually. Triss's eyes nearly bugged out of her head as she saw the Steed of Sithis appear from seemingly nowhere.

"What… how?" the redhead stuttered. "He was miles away at Kaer Morhen!" she exclaimed.

"I dunno how he does it, he just does," Martin said shrugging his shoulders as if it were no big thing and he swung himself up into the saddle of Shadowmere before offering his hand to Triss. "M'lady?" he asked.

Triss then thought of a good way to turn the tables. "Ooh, I like a strong man," she purred flirtatiously as she took Martin's hand and he easily lifted her up into the saddle. Triss wrapped her arms around Martin's mid-section and rubbed her cheek against, giving a little moan as she did. It pleased Triss to see a faint blush on Martin's cheeks as she did that; perhaps Martin was not as immune to women as she thought he was. Oh, that was good to know, Triss thought.

Shadowmere then reared on his back legs and gave an ear-splitting neigh stopping Triss's thoughts and Martin then urged Shadowmere into a gallop and they set off towards the Free City of Novigrad.

…

 _ **TO BE CONTINUED…**_

 **A/N: There, the fourth chapter of this story and the beginnings of Martin the Dragonborn's adventures in the Witcher world. I know it's been a while since I updated this, but at least I updated after how ever many months ago since I last updated it. I've got some good ideas for this story, some of them have to do with the recent Skyrim Creation Club content as I've got good ideas as to how to the blend the Elder Scrolls universe with the Witcher universe. I may even do a crossover with Fallout as I've got the idea of Martin and Triss ending up in the Fallout universe due to a botched portal; still deciding which of the Fallout games/regions Martin and Triss land in. I am thinking they end up in the Mojave/New Vegas region, but I am considering they end up in the Commonwealth/Fallout 4 region. If I go with the Mojave, I've got some good ideas for the Courier that may just be a link to Martin's past (we all know what Martin's past/origin is, I've all but said it), but the Commonwealth is also looking pretty good.**

 **In other news, I'm working on a Harry Potter/Game of Thrones crossover where instead of Harry Potter ending up in the Game of Thrones/Song of Ice & Fire universe, Aegon VI/Young Griff ends up in the Harry Potter universe and goes to Hogwarts. I'm ironing out some details such as how old Aegon will be at the start and how he will get to the HP world, but we'll see how it goes. I've got some good ideas for that.**

 **And I'm also working on a Red Dead Redemption/Game of Thrones crossover where Aegon VI ends up in the Red Dead universe. It'll be an alternate universe of the Red Dead Redemption world so don't expect to see characters like John Marston or Arthur Morgan in the story, but some characters like those in the stranger missions will feature as I've got good ideas as to how Aegon will react to the Red Dead world and how it will affect and change him.**

 **Anyways, that's about all from me, I'll just leave this here and if you liked what you read, leave a review telling me what you liked or want to see in this story or any other stories I have or plan on. If you don't like it, then feel free to show yourself out.**

 **Be kind to one another,**

 **Angry lil' elf.**


	5. Chapter 5

The Witcher: The Black Dragon

Chapter 5

…

Shadowmere's hooves swiftly pounded the ground making it sound like a thunderstorm was coming. Peasants and guardsmen gaped as they saw the massive terrifying black steed with its equally nightmarish looking rider astride its back galloping towards them. Some of the peasants screamed in fear yelling that the Wild Hunt had come.

Martin looked at the fleeing peasants, then looked at Triss and asked, "Why are they running? And what's the Wild Hunt?"

"Well, just look at you and your horse," said Triss. "And I'll tell you what the Wild Hunt is later," she added.

As they neared the city gates, the Temple Guard marched up to them, all armed with pikes levelled at Martin.

"Stop right there!" cried out the sergeant. "Who are you and what's your business in Novigrad?!" he demanded.

"My name is Martin, and I'm visiting Novigrad," replied Martin calmly. "Who might you be?" he asked politely.

The sergeant looked a little confused by the polite question before he stammered out, "Erm, I'm Sergeant Killian of the Temple Guard," he said nervously. "Are you a rider of the Wild Hunt?" he then asked trying to sound more commanding of the situation.

"No. What is the Wild Hunt?" said Martin. Triss chose the moment to get off Shadowmere and reveal herself.

"It's alright. Martin is no rider of the Wild Hunt, he's a friend and he won't hurt you," the redhaired sorceress said.

"Oh! Miss Merigold? You're with him then?" the sergeant asked and Triss nodded before saying, "Yes. Now could you ask your men to stand down?" she requested.

The sergeant nodded reluctantly before telling his men to stand down. Some of the soldiers looked a little reluctant but they obeyed anyway.

Martin got off Shadowmere and looked around. People were shooting him wary glances and whispering to each other. Taking off his helmet, Martin revealed his face to everyone. The whispers grew even more as everyone saw Martin's face; some were whispered that he wasn't an Aen Elle, whatever that was, others were surprised by his looks expecting him to be much uglier and others were just whispers of awe. Martin for his part simply ignored the whispers and looked to Triss who was speaking to the sergeant.

After a moment, the sergeant spoke to Martin. "Welcome to the free city of Novigrad, milord, we apologise for the rude welcome. We thought the Wild Hunt had come to our doorstep," he said formally.

"You needn't apologise, sergeant," replied Martin politely with a smile. "I might have done the same in your shoes," he said casually.

"Erm… thank you, milord," said the sergeant shuffling his feet a little on the spot. "Welcome to Novigrad," he said awkwardly.

"Thank you, I look forward to seeing the wonders of this place," said Martin. Triss then spoke, "Shall we?" she said to Martin who nodded.

"What about your steed?" the sergeant asked Martin who said, "Shadowmere can take care of himself and he won't let anyone but me ride anyway."

Martin and Triss then walked into the city. Martin was gazing around in wonder; there was a multitude of people walking the streets from elves, dwarves, beggars, guardsmen, local citizens, merchants hawking their wares and the strumpets working the corners.

A few of the strumpets saw Martin and made a few catcalls. Triss had an annoyed look on her expression and she looped her arm around Martin's as if to say, "Mine!" but that didn't stop the lewd catcalls from the strumpets who only winked suggestively at the Dragonborn who simply ignored them.

"An interesting city," the Dovahkiin remarked. "It reminds me somewhat of Solitude, but on a much grander scale, more like the Imperial City of Cyrodil," he said.

"Novigrad is home to the largest port on the continent, so it sees a large influx of travellers, merchants and ships from all over," said Triss. "But it does have its share of problems," she added quietly.

"Such as?" Martin asked.

"Well, there is a clear divide between the rich and the poor, not to mention the division between humans and non-humans. On top of that, there's the enmity between mages and the Church of the Eternal Fire," said Triss.

"Church of Eternal Fire? What kind of religion is it?" Martin enquired.

"Well, some of the basic doctrines of the faith are love, kindness and togetherness. At least that's what it's supposed to be about," replied Triss. "Most of the time, the Church preaches against mages and non-humans, and they even burn people at the stake sometimes," she said grimly.

"How barbaric!" Martin made a disgusted face. "Even back home, we didn't burn people at the stake," he said. "The headsman's block was enough for most. Burning people alive was more Daedra worship!" he declared.

"Daedra worship? What's that?" Triss asked.

"That can wait until we find a quiet spot to talk," said Martin wishing to avoid talk of the Daedra. "I suppose we'll have to find a place to stay for the time being," he added.

"Do you have any money?" Triss asked.

"Aye, I do, but I don't think Septims will be accepted here," Martin replied.

"Well, I know one enterprising dwarf who could help you with that," said Triss. "Follow me."

Leading Martin up to the area known as Hierarch Square which seemed to be a more upper class market for the more wealthy citizenry, Triss then led Martin to a small corner where a dwarf with a horseshoe ring of grey hair and a thick grey beard was behind a caged window counter.

"Hello, Vivaldi," Triss greeted the dwarf brightly who looked and gave a bright twinkling smile.

"Ah! Miss Merigold! Good to see you! Been a long time, lass," the dwarf said with a cheery grin. Looking past Triss, the dwarf's eyes widened in surprise when he saw the dark almost demonic armour of the Dragonborn.

"Sweet Melitele! Has the Wild Hunt and White Frost come?!" the dwarf yelled.

"It's alright, Vimme!" Triss said to the dwarf quickly. "This is Martin. He's not a rider of the Wild Hunt, despite his armour. He's a friend and not from around here," she explained.

"Could've fooled me, lass," Vimme said as he left the counter and opened a door to step out and take a proper look at Martin, his neck craning to look up at Martin. "So, what are ye, laddie? Yer not a Rider of the Wild Hunt, are ye?" the dwarf asked.

"No, I'm not," said Martin. "I'm from another world. I'm called the Dragonborn in my world," he explained.

"Dragon-what?" Vimme said. "Yer not pullin' me leg, are ye?" he asked.

"Why would I do that?" replied Martin.

"Well, I ain't never heard of a Dragon-whatchamacallit, nor seen one before," said Vimme. "And forgive me fer sayin', but seeing ye in such armour, ye look more like something outta me worst nightmare!" he added.

"I wouldn't hurt anyone unless they gave me reason to," said Martin shrugging his massive shoulders. "I actually came here to get some coin converted into the local currency," he added.

"Oh? And what kinda coin do ye have? Orens? Florins?" Vimme asked.

"Septims," said Martin.

"Sep-what?" Vimme asked.

Digging through the satchel on his side, Martin pulled a round gold coin and handed it to the dwarf who looked at in interest.

"Ah, ain't never seen coinage like this before," Vimme said as he examined the coin before taking a bite of it. "Hmm, real gold too," he added. "How much of this coin do ye have?" he asked.

Martin pulled his satchel and said, "Say when." Tipping the satchel upside, a virtual river of gold came pouring out like a waterfall, the ringing sounds of gold clinking as the coins hit the ground. There seemed to be no sign of the golden waterfall ending. Vimme and Triss were astonished at the growing pile of gold which continued to grow.

"Martin! I think that's enough gold!" Triss cried out. Martin then slowed the flow of gold from his satchel and placed it back on his hip. The pile of gold septims was enormous and Vimme looked like he was about to cry in happiness at seeing that much gold.

"Is this enough?" Martin asked.

"O-Oh, aye! I can do ye a grand deal!" Vimme said almost sobbing with happiness. After a few minutes of working out an exchange rate with Triss helping, Martin ended up with a sizable purse of gold of forty-five thousand gold Novigrad crowns. Martin asked that half of the money be put into a savings account which Vimme quickly set up for him at no charge at all. The other half of the money, Martin put into his satchel for walking around money. Triss aired her concern that the satchel could be pickpocketed from Martin, to which Martin said that anyone who would try to take his satchel would get a nasty surprise.

Leaving the Vivaldi bank, Martin then said to Triss, "So, is there anywhere we can rent a room?" he asked.

"Well, the Kingfisher always has rooms available," said Triss. "We can stay there for a while until you find some place to your liking," she added.

"Lead the way," Martin replied.

Heading down the winding streets, Triss asked, "So, forgive me for asking, but how do you have that much money around in your pocket?"

"A lot of hard work doing odd jobs, bounty hunting missions plus raiding bandit strongholds and Nord ruins," replied Martin. "A lot of bandits had quite a bit of gold stashed away in their hideouts and the bounty missions paid quite well," he said.

"And you're not worried someone might get lucky and take all your money?" Triss asked.

Martin simply gave a lopsided grin and Triss felt her cheeks go red. "Are you alright, Miss Merigold? You look a little red," Martin noted his voice full of concern.

"Oh, fine! Just peachy!" Triss said quickly. "Ah, we're almost the Kingfisher!" she announced and soon enough they reached a large inn with the words _'The Kingfisher'_ emblazoned on a large sign hanging above the archway.

"Looks like a nice establishment," Martin commented as they entered the inn and found it almost packed with a troupe of bards playing their instruments. The music almost stopped to a dead quiet when the patrons saw Martin standing in the doorway. Martin simply ignored the stares and walked over to the innkeeper who looked as though he might piss his breeches.

"Do you have any rooms available?" Martin asked the smaller man, keeping a friendly smile on his lips and his voice calm as possible.

"A-a-aye! We-we do, milord!" the innkeeper stuttered out, his face pale.

"Might I rent one of your rooms for the next month?" Martin requested.

"Y-yes! Any room ye like!" the innkeeper squeaked out, his hands and body shaking and trembling in fear.

"Good. How much?" Martin asked.

"Free!" the innkeeper yelped out.

"That doesn't seem right?" Martin said in confusion. "Why give me a room for free? I can certainly play," he added.

"Why don't you let me handle the talking?" Triss said to the Dragonborn. "Go watch the bards," she suggested. Martin nodded and headed over to one of the benches. Almost immediately, some of the patrons fled leaving a table bare. Confused as to why, Martin sat down at the table and looked to the bards who all seemed too nervous. Realising that his armour may be the cause of this near panic, Martin's hands glowed in purple fire and in a flash of purple flame, his Daedric plate armour and helm were replaced with a woollen tunic, leather trousers and boots. Everyone seemed to relax but they then stared at the Dragonborn; they whispered in awe at seeing Martin's pale skin, silver-gold hair and striking purple eyes.

Triss walked over to the table and sat opposite Martin. "Just rented a room for the month, but we'll have to share a bed," she explained.

"That's alright," said Martin shrugging his shoulders. "I promise I shan't do anything to compromise your virtue," he declared.

Triss had an amuse look on her lips and said, "My virtue?" she laughed melodiously. "I may be a sorceress, but I'm no maiden," she said.

"I didn't take you for one," said Martin with an easy grin on his lips. Triss gave a gasp of faux shock and replied, "Martin! Are you insinuating something?" she asked jestingly.

"Well, I prefer a woman who has some experience, truth be told," Martin replied.

"Martin! I am a lady!" Triss protested but the smile on her lips and look of amusement in her green eyes betrayed her amusement.

"I couldn't give a damn for lady-like," Martin said his eyes going wolfish in an instant. "I prefer a woman, not a snooty lady worried about messing up her hair," he added.

Triss felt a rush of liquid heat flood her veins and she said, "Perhaps I might show you how much of a woman I can be?" she said suggestively.

"Perhaps I'll let you," Martin replied his voice growing husky, almost an animalistic growl. Triss shivered at the sound of desire in Martin's voice. It had been a really long time since she felt this way towards a man.

Then a serving girl came over and interrupted them, "Excuse, milord and milady? Can I get either of you anything to sup?" she asked nervously.

"What do you have?" Martin replied.

"Well, we have some fresh roasted pheasant or a leg of roasted boar, we also have some venison stew or fresh caught trout," replied the serving girl. "We have some casks of Kaedweni stout or some bottles of Toussaint dry to drink," she then said.

"I'll have some venison stew and a pint of stout," said Martin. "What about you, Miss Merigold? I'm buying," he added.

"Some stew and Est-Est if you have any," Triss said to the serving girl who nodded and headed off to the kitchens to have their orders done.

Martin then watched the bards play their music; the songs were unfamiliar to Martin's ears, but they were pleasant enough. Soon, the serving girl returned with a tray, bearing two bowls of hot stew, a pint of stout and a goblet of wine.

"Here you are. If you need anything else, just let me know," the serving girl said to them.

"Here," Martin said digging through his satchel and handing the girl a Crown. "Something for the trouble," he added.

"Thank you, milord!" the serving girl's eyes were wide with delight at Martin's generosity. "If you need anything, anything at all!" she said.

"I'll let you know," replied Martin as he took up a spoon and began to eat his stew before taking a gulp of his pint. "Hmm, not bad as stew and stout goes," he said thoughtfully.

Triss smiled as she ate her food and sipped her wine. The patrons then relaxed as they realised the giant of a man wasn't going to harm them and they resumed their business. Soon Martin finished his stew and pint and sat back with a quiet sigh, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"So, what else is there to do?" Martin asked Triss who was still going with her stew and wine.

"Well, Geralt would usually check the notice board and see if there is any work for him," said Triss as she finished off her goblet of wine and ate the last of her stew. "Although I'm not sure Witcher work is for you," she added.

"Why not?" asked Martin. "Sounds like Witcher work isn't too different from what I usually did in Skyrim," he said.

"Maybe, but I don't think there's anything like nekkers or fiends in Skyrim," replied Triss. "You could get seriously hurt if you took a Witcher contract and ended up fighting a fiend of some such," she said.

"Then I'll need to read up on the creatures of this land," said Martin. "Are there any bookstores nearby?" he asked.

"There is one in Hierarch Square," replied Triss. "Do you remember the way there?" she asked.

"I do," said Martin as he stood from his seat and paid for the meal. "I'll be back in a while," he added as he exited the Kingfisher.

Walking down the streets back to Hierarch Square, Martin asked a passer-by where the bookstore was and was directed to it. Entering the store, Martin waited at the counter until the storeowner, a middle-aged man with rounded shoulders came up the counter.

"Yes? How may I help ye?" the man asked.

"I was wondering if you had any books on monsters?" said Martin.

The storeowner's eyes widened in surprise as he said, "Monsters? I have plenty of books on them, but why would ye want to read such things?" he asked. "Ye don't look to be a Witcher," he said.

"No, I'm not," replied Martin. "But, I'd like to be prepared if I do face monsters out there," he said.

"Ah, fortune favours the prepared as it's said," the storeowner said nodding his head in understanding and he walked over to some of the shelves and picked out some tomes before setting them down in front of Martin. "Here ye are, young sir. A few tomes and bestiaries detailing some of the creatures Witchers face on a constant basis," he declared.

"Thank you very much, good sir," said Martin as he dug through his satchel and deposited some money on the counter. "I look forward to doing business with you again," he added as he took the tomes and left the shop, leaving the storeowner to count the money and found a generous amount.

Heading back to the Kingfisher, Martin looked at the titles of the tomes with some interest when some loud rough voices caught his attention.

"Oi! Lookie 'ere, lads! We got a knife-ears coming into our slice of paradise!"

Looking to see where the voice was coming from, Martin saw a young woman with pointed ears and flaxen blonde hair being accosted by some rough looking men.

"What's a fucking elf doing in hierarch square, eh? Plowing elves don't belong 'ere!" one of the thugs said nastily.

"I'm not doing anything wrong!" protested the young woman. "Please let me pass!" she said.

"Nah, you gotta pay a toll first!" sniggered one of the thug with a leer, his hands reaching towards the young woman.

Martin frowned before marching up the men and said to them, "Leave the lady alone. She's done you no harm," he said commandingly.

"Eh? Who the fook's this?" asked one of the ruffians. "We go some knight in shiny armour here?" he taunted.

"I'm giving a chance to walk away. I suggest you take it," Martin said to the men calmly, his hands balling up into fists. Every fibre of Martin's body was tensed like a coiled spring.

"Oh yeah? Well, here's what we suggest you do; sod off before we stick ya!" the leader of the thugs said pulling out a knife.

Martin gave a rumbling laugh before saying, "You call that a knife?" he asked before pulling out a Daedric knife from his satchel, the dark jagged and serrated blade gleaming in the sunlight. "This is a knife!" Martin grinned darkly.

The ruffians seeing the Daedric blade in Martin's hands opted for the better part of valour and fled the scene. Martin watched them flee before sheathing his dagger and looked to the young woman. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine!" the young woman protested. "You needn't have done anything. If anything, you only made it worse," she said critically.

"I wasn't about to let those thugs accost you," said Martin.

"Why? Because you think I'll spread my legs for you? Is that it?" the young woman sneered.

"No. I simply wasn't going to let them hurt you, nothing more," replied Martin.

The young woman blinked in surprise and said, "You… you're not expecting anything of me in return?" she asked in disbelief.

"Why would I?"

The young woman stared at Martin and asked, "Who are you?"

"My friends call me Martin. My enemies call me their worst nightmare," said Martin. "Who might you be, milady?" he asked.

"Elsa," said the young woman. "Thank you," she then said.

"For what?" Martin asked.

"For saving me. It… it was very kind of you," Elsa replied.

Martin smiled and said, "You're welcome." Martin then turned around and walked away.

"Wait!" Marrtin turned around to look at Elsa. "Where will I find you?" she called out to him.

"I'll be staying at the Kingfisher," Martin replied. "Good day," he said before resuming his path. Elsa stared after him before resuming her own path.

…

 _ **TO BE CONTINUED…**_

 **A/N: There, the fifth chapter of this done and dusted! I know it's a pointless filler chapter, but it was the best I could do for this to show that I'm still active on this story. The next chapter will be Martin reading up on Witcher monsters with Triss helping him out and giving him her own experiences with monsters. I also hope that in the next chapter Martin will do a Witcher contract, failing that a bounty hunting mission dealing with some bandits causing trouble. The next chapter may definitely see Martin buying a house to stay in. I was thinking he buys the house with the Godling Sarah in it, for a few reasons such as the portal in the basement that would entail Martin going on a short trip through the worlds such as Fallout for example.**

 **In other news, I'm working on a Game of Thrones/Highschool of the Dead crossover that also crosses over with Fallout, Witcher and Elder Scrolls. It's just an idea at this stage so I mightn't do it, but I have set up a romance poll if anyone wants to put their two cents in.**

 **So, not much else to say, but leave a review if you liked it or any suggestions that you think are helpful and I'll see you all in the next chapter or in some other story.**

 **Kind regards,**

 **Angry lil' elf.**


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